


Complementary

by BrainlessGenius



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bodily Fluids, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Bullying, Catholic Guilt, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Disgusting Imagery, Disturbing Themes, Explicit Language, Familial sides - Freeform, Fighting, Gen, Graphic Description, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Magic, Panic Attacks, Religious Conflict, Sinister thoughts, Spiders, Violence, Witches, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25181491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrainlessGenius/pseuds/BrainlessGenius
Summary: His entire body bends, twists, and squirms against the carpet; it’s soft tufts heating up from the friction all his ruckus had created. His eyelids are shut impossibly tight; almost enough to push his eyeballs further in from the strain.The voice laughs, the loudest it can, and the sensations flare up at its strongest.“Can’t wait to meet you, brother.”It’s the last thing he hears before a searing, burning pain surges through his head and body, and he passes out.~o~Thomas didn’t always have 2 creative sides. A take on Roman’s journey, Remus’s origins, and their rocky relationship as brothers throughout Thomas’s life
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

From the very start, Logic and Morality already knew Thomas was a creative kid. 

While his peers were busy dabbling finger paint on each other, the small host would be busy painting a pretty flower. While they learned to draw shapes, Thomas drew a cute, brown dog (or was it a cat?), and it was a well-known fact for the Sanders clan that their boy could make up the grandest stories out of thin air.

His imagination was always too bright, colorful, maybe even advanced for his age; so it didn’t come as a surprise to the two sides when one day a bright red door appeared, glowing impossibly bright across their rooms.

Young Thomas had been coloring when it happened. The paper was a mess of red and green and unfortunately, so was the floor. You couldn’t blame the youngster; the piece of letter sized paper was too small to contain everything his mind had in store. 

Amidst the messy trails of crayon on the white sheet, the young embodiments of logic and morality could make out the looks of the terrifying dragon witch, in all its green, scaly, fiery glory, and the brave prince dressed in red, sword held high, determined to defeat the monstrous beast.

That red door had been glowing for the whole time that their host had been illustrating; and when Thomas’s mother finally found him with his shirt looking like a Christmas Picasso painting, moving him away from his crayon box and into the bath, the glowing finally ceased.

The two main facets ran in front of the door, Morality fidgeting with his over-sized cardigan nervously and excitedly at the same time, and Logic adjusting his slightly too big tie and glasses. Looking up the crimson door, they saw the prettiest emblem they’ve ever seen.

It was certainly better than theirs, they thought.

Finally the door opened, revealing a figure just around their height, with a gorgeous lock of hair, impeccable posture, and a face identical to theirs but full of energetic youth. 

The most noticeable detail about him however, was how much he looked like the prince in Thomas’s drawing; although he had a bit more growing into his outfit to do.

Despite his confident appearance, the new side seemed wary, cautious of his new surroundings. Instinctively, he had a hand on what looked like a small dagger around his waist.

Knowing precisely how it felt like during his first time in the mindscape, Logic took the liberty of starting the introductions.

“Good day, welcome to the mindscape.”

The logical facet turned the prince-like side’s attention towards a picture frame set up in the commons area.

“That’s Thomas, he’s our host. I’m Logic. I’m his learning center and his common sense too.”

“Hi! I’m Morality! I’m the heart. I’m also in charge of all his feelings.” 

The surge of pure energy emanating from the side in light blue must have taken the new fella by surprise judging by how he took a step back and gripped his weapon tighter.

“Aw, don’t look so scared new guy, we don’t bite!”

“And I don’t think Morality could hurt anything or anyone.”

It took a while before the facet in red and white relaxed enough to ease his hands from the dagger and loosen up his tongue.

“I’m Creativity.”

“Great to have you here Creativity.”

The one in the tie, Logic, held out a hand, and deciding it was maybe okay to trust these people now, he took it; only for the other one to pull him into a big, tight hug.

“Ooohh, you’ll like it here! Want a cookie new kid? The chocolate chip ones taste _create_!”

Creativity tried to stifle a grin at that one. He failed.

“Don’t mind him, he does that _all_ the time.”

Before he knew it, they were laughing and playing in the commons area, watching this small, brunette child that looked exactly like them chase a butterfly outside his house.

The young prince imagined that butterfly changing colors, leaving a trail of magic behind wherever it went. He told his two new friends all the swash-buckling stories filling his head, and they both listened with eyes full of wonder, munching on delicious cookies as they went.

Yes, maybe he will like it here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Internalized homophobia, mentions of religion, internalized Catholic guilt

By the time Thomas was 8, the three sides had decided on names.

Logan, Patton, and Roman.

The trio have now become a fully-functioning system with the utmost goal of keeping Thomas healthy, happy, and on the right path. 

Their roles as facets of his personality began to broaden, and, consequently, there was more work to be done for all of them; nothing was too hard if they worked together though.

When Thomas first started school they thought things were fairly easy. Logan made sure Thomas wasn’t failing, Patton was more than willing to allow young Thomas a nice set of friends to play with, and Roman was beyond ecstatic to make sure Thomas and his wondrous imagination shone out above the rest.

The lessons were quite easy to comprehend. Math and Science were a bit tricky but the other two always believed Logan had more mental prowess stocked in his body than Patton and Roman combined. 

Thomas didn’t just pass his classes, he aced them.

Patton didn’t have as much space up there as Logan did but his heart was wide open. Thomas easily absorbed everything there was to know about family, friendship, manners, respect, and even the good and bad. In his community, the young brunette had become known as their “little ray of sunshine.”

Roman through the years burned bright, brighter than any star in the sky. At such a young age, Thomas’s flair for the arts and dramatics had made itself known to their relatives. 

Logan and Patton had seen their fair share of Princey’s (as they liked to call him) many, many talents; but the one that stood out like a beacon in the night had to be his voice.

The 2 had come to an agreement that they had never heard anything more angelic than Roman’s singing.

They were watching The Little Mermaid once and they remember Thomas absolutely loving the film; growing attached to it, watching and rewatching it every chance he could. They all adored the movie as well but Roman?

Roman fell in love with it. 

His eyes sparkled at the sight of Ariel’s graceful movements. The corners of his eyes crinkled at every witty quip from Sebastian. He’d tether on the edge of his seat each time the evil Ursula made her appearance on screen. But it was the song that made Roman fall head over heels in love with The Little Mermaid, and with every other Disney film ever since.

It was around the 19th time of seeing the movie that they heard it. As far as they knew only the red-haired mermaid on TV was supposed to be singing “Part of Your World.” Their mouths went ajar as they turned their heads to their fanciful friend singing along with Ariel, leaving no space in the commons untouched by his feet, sounding as heavenly, or maybe even more so than the mermaid herself.

The prince almost cried tears of joy when Thomas eventually sang the entire song near perfectly with his parents looking prouder than they were the day he was born.

The three continued to grow along with their host; Logan gaining more knowledge, Patton collecting more wisdom, and Roman expanding his talents.

They passed through the hurdle that was Thomas’s childhood and early school life quite successfully if you asked Logan; and all thanks to the delicate balance they 3 have settled upon.

When Thomas finished Elementary, they felt invincible. All three were giddy, undeniably excited, and ready for Thomas to get to middle school; growing up was part of their long-term goals after all. They felt victorious, as if they were seated on the very top of the world.

They never thought it would take as simple as a few words to topple them back down.

They’ve always known Thomas was a little… different than the other kids, but that never stopped him from getting along with them.

Over the summer, before the young Sanders could move into a new school for 7th grade, the trio had realized quite gradually that the neighborhood boy Thomas loved playing with wasn’t just a friend. Roman was the one to point out that they were indeed infatuated with him.

Patton grew frantic. He looked back on all their Catholic lessons, and thought about what their parents might say about this worrying matter. The cardigan-clad side wouldn’t stop pacing the commons.

“What do we do Logan? This… this shouldn’t, _can’t_ be right. Right? Maybe this is just a phase, or maybe we’re just looking at this the wrong way. There must be _something_ Logan.”

The logical side looked at his moral counterpart looking just as confused as he was. For the first time in so long, their resident problem-solver was short on solutions.

“I… Well, I don’t know Patton! You’re _Morality._ You’re the _heart,_ shouldn’t _you_ of all people know how to solve such an emotionally charged predicament?”

“Why are you turning to me? This isn’t my area! Roman, _you’re_ his passion aren’t you? This is… this not just the matters of the heart, this is _romance_ and, well, guess who’s department that is?”

Patton’s animated gestures and bouncy voice did nothing to mask the fact that he was terrified and _mad_ at what was occurring.

If Patton was angry, Roman was _furious._

“This shouldn’t even _be_ an issue! You know what, Pat? I don’t know what both of you are talking about ‘cause if you ask me, I don’t see a problem. Why don’t we just let our host _like whoever he chooses_?”

It was their first real argument.

And in the heat of their voluminous voices and jumbled thoughts, they failed to notice the moment Thomas’s parents sat their son down. They didn’t hear their conversation, nor felt the weight of their eyes boring into their own. They were oblivious to the fact that their host had began fiddling with the hem of his shirt with shaking hands and unfocused eyes.

_“Thomas Sanders, tell us the truth. Do you like that boy?”_

The question fell on them like a broken elevator; effectively stopping their seemingly endless slights at each other. They stared at their mother through Thomas’s eyes, thinking helplessly of what words to push through his lips.

Before any of them could come up with a reply, it seemed like the answer was already uttered for them.

_“No.”_

They lost their balance as the mindscape shook. They stayed kneeling on the floor as the trembling continued, breaths uneven and hearts thumping faster than they’ve ever experienced; eyes locked on the foundations of their home and the state it’s become.

Logan froze, Patton was terrified, and Roman cried out, doing his best to shield his two counterparts as the walls cracked and crumbled, debris falling to the ground, opening up more and more till it stopped; strengthening itself once more, making way for another pathway through it.

When the shaking had ceased, the three picked themselves up and carefully made their way to the new addition to the scape. It was farther away from the commons, and unlike their pristine, white walls, this was gray and uneven. The imperfect walls were littered with large cracks branching out into smaller, thinner ones, as if a single push could crumble it once more.

The mindscape was fairly well-lit but this hallway was… dark; as if the lights had not been replaced for years and had dimmed from the strain of keeping the warmth.

Putting on a brave face and holding out his dagger, Roman slowly led his friends into the darkness, ready to face anything that posed a threat to their host.

All three had to snap their eyes shut when two blinding doors suddenly appeared before them;

One glowing a bright shade of purple, and its complement, yellow, shining just as brightly across them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit me up if I missed any tags! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Mature language, bullying, homophobia; homophobic slurs; disturbing imagery; implied gore; mild(?) self-harm reference

To Roman, the mindscape seemed smaller then ever before.

It had been a year since Anxiety and Deceit (no, they needn’t know their names thank you very much) arrived, and nothing’s been the same since.

He still vividly remembers the day they first came.

The second the blinding glow of the two doors finally ceased, Roman wasted no time in settling into his well-practiced stance; eyes pacing back and forth between the two doors, waiting for either to open up.

He hears a click, and in one swift motion his dagger is pointed towards the first door to unhinge. As it swings ajar, a stream of light hits the top portion just right, revealing its emblem: a two-headed snake.

They’re greeted by a figure in yellow and black, head bowed down, face covered by his fringe and bowler hat.

For a while he remained unmoving, until Roman decided to cut through the heavy silence.

“Who are you?”

Slowly, their new companion looked up to meet his welcome committee, prompting three sets of eyes to widen in response.

Half of his face was… Thomas, but somehow more mature; as if he had gone through life and was forced to experience it once more.

It was the other half that sent shivers down the three onlooking aspects’ spines as their eyes met with the narrow pupil of a snake’s.

They let their gazes wander from his reptile-like eye to the rest of his scaled face. A smile from his inhuman half was enough for the prince’s grip on his dagger to tighten .

“Now, now, I don’t think there’s any need for that… _thing_ you call a weapon. Is this really how you welcome your new family?”

“You tell us who you are, and I put down the dagger.”

The new side had the gall to let out a low chuckle, one that reverberated through their ears and echoed in their minds.

“Certainly. I’m Deceit; and I must say, I do appreciate this very _warm_ welcome from you lot.”

Roman took a few seconds to let the fact that Thomas, _their_ Thomas, had such a side, sink in; before honoring his part of the deal and putting the dagger back in its usual place.

“I’m Creativity, he’s Logic, and he’s Morality. Pardon me asking, but what exactly are your responsibilities to Thomas?”

In the background, the trio could hear the faint voice of Thomas’s father repeating the same question that prompted the doors’ appearance in the first place.

_“I’ll ask again son. Do you like that boy?”_

Deceit turns his ears towards the sound and smiles once more.

“Obviously I’m still not quite sure where I fit in your little gang of misfits but I’m certain of one thing…”

Outside, the young Sanders makes his reply.

_“I already told you… **no**.”  
_

The scaled side looks to them once more.

“I’m going to be playing a massive part of that boy’s life.”

The royal’s fist clenched in anger.

“That _boy_ is our host, and we would do anything and _everything_ to keep him on an honorable path and out of harm’s way. And if achieving that means getting rid of you and whoever is in that other door, then by Triton’s beard I _will._ ”

Roman quickly turned on his heels and stormed out of the darkened hallway, ignoring his tiny inkling to check on the unopened room, Patton and Logan following closely behind him, all deeply troubled by the implications of a deceitful aspect.

No one notices Deceit practically slamming the purple door open; being at a trembling, purple-clad, anxious persona’s side in a heartbeat.

Back in present times, Roman’s uncomfortable flashbacks in the commons are interrupted by a very familiar brooding presence at his side.

“Are you really trying to sit with others _now_? You’ll never know what they might think of you, or worse, they might _reject_ you. You don’t want to go through the pain of that do you? Back to the usual lonely lunch seat it is for you Tommy.”

Roman could all but glare at Anxiety, knowing full well that at this point in Thomas’s life, the two newest additions to the mindscape had more power than he thought.

The eyeshadow-wearing side took notice of his fuming stare.

“Aww, don’t be that way drama queen. I’m just trying to spare the little guy here of the horrors of an unfair society.”

Roman, getting tired of putting up with the emo and the snake, half-tried to suppress an angry huff and merely ran his hands through his hair; fully aware of the mess it’ll become.

“This is just _lunch_ ; far from the _fucked up_ society you’re always going on about. Could you loosen your grasp just _this once_?”

The anxious side was taken aback. He had never heard the prince curse, but that shouldn’t stop him from his carrying on his duties. He was used to the royal’s piercing statements anyway.

“No can do, your highness. Hey, at least you can finally work on that writing thing he has due tomorrow. No one around Tommy to disturb him. You should be thanking me, Princey.”

With gritted teeth, the fanciful side watched as Anxiety left him alone in the commons, seemingly satisfied with yet another recess spent in isolation.

Well, at least there was _one_ bright side to this.

As his pubescent host picked at his food in solitary, Roman decided to make the most out of the situation and think of a decent subject for his English homework.

Minutes passed, and despite all his efforts to think of a proper plot, a relatable character, an interesting story, a unique narrative, _anything_ , Roman’s mind just kept drawing blank.

He’s gotta be honest. He hasn’t been at his best lately.

As if his creative defeat wasn’t enough, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the small group of boys standing over the now extremely nervous Thomas.

“Hey fagg*t, sulking in the corner again?”

Thomas only stayed silent, trying to think of his best course of action.

“Why aren’t ya talking? You on your period again, sweetcakes?”

In different areas of the mindscape, Logan was going overdrive for a solution, Patton was being bombarded with feelings, Anxiety was in the beginnings of an attack, Deceit was furious, and Roman was stuck in his place.

And Thomas?

His eyes were shut tight, trying his best to shield himself from the ketchup being squirted all over him by the same group of boys.

“Look, _she’s_ on one of her red days!”

Thomas winces as they throw the now almost empty bottle at him, their taunting laughs slowly becoming distant as they walk away from their victim.

He feels the panic attack threatening to take over him and runs to the nearest cubicle; conscious of the dozens of eyes bearing witness to his misery.

Roman feels helpless. He can’t even blame Anxiety for this one. Sometimes all he wishes is to jump out of Thomas’s head and fight off anyone and everyone who dares to mistreat their host. 

Feeling very much unlike a hero, Roman could only watch as Thomas fought his own familiar battle alone; waiting a long time until his breaths even out before he uncurls on the stall’s floor and takes the sight of his own self in.

The defeated prince syncs his own line of sight with Thomas’s. He joins Thomas’s red eyes in scanning his filthy shirt, running a hand through the ketchup on his face, sighting the viscous liquid scattered on his arms from being used as a shield.

Their eyes simultaneously fixate at his wrist, where a line of ketchup had found its place there. 

Roman lets Thomas stare as the royal feels his own mind cogs begin to move; seemingly activated by the image in front of him.

_A clean line of red decorating his wrist._

As Thomas gets back into his senses and begins to clean himself up, Roman finds his creative juices flowing back; fueled by images of lines, the color red, paleness, and paper thin veins.

As the host finally leaves the stall, jacket covering the muck on his clothes, it would seem the fanciful side had finally found a subject worthy of Thomas’s writing homework. 

It was novel, unique, daring, and bold. He had reached an imaginative breakthrough.

No one was there to see a stray wisp of the royal’s deep brown hair turn _green_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Message me if I left out any tags or warnings!. Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Mature language, sexual thoughts, sexual imagery

“Hey Roman! Didn’t know you dyed your hair kiddo.”

“Dyed my hair?”

“Oh, don’t worry Ro, I a _green_ with you on this one! Love the color! See ya!”

Roman watched, confused, as Patton walked away from him and back into his room. Once out of his line of sight, he quickly conjured up a hand mirror and looked at himself.

It didn’t even take a second to see the obnoxiously green strands of hair settled on his forehead. Not wanting anyone else to see him like this, he swiftly walked back to his own door and shut it behind him as he entered.

He stood in front of his golden-framed mirror, eyes following his hands as he carded through his differently colored hair; half-hoping it was just some paint or any other weird substance that had gotten itself there.

A few attempts to erase the green tinge later, and Roman was back seated on his bed looking defeated. 

He doesn’t know where it came from, but it’s here now, so what can he do? He decided to comfort himself by thinking of it as some weird costume upgrade.

Patton had casually told Logan about Princey’s little hair highlights. The logical side, busy with filing Thomas’s stock knowledge for his upcoming exams, honestly couldn’t care any less.

He did start to notice, however, particular… changes in their fanciful counterpart’s behavior soon after Patton’s observation.

The first noticeable change was when Thomas was watching a film. 

Inevitably, a few sexual innuendos were thrown around through the movie. Logan knew what some of those meant, while the rest flew over his head. Patton, naturally, didn’t get any. Now Roman, Roman was usually appalled by such jokes; saying the writers needn’t stoop that low to get a good laugh out of the audience.

But now, here the prince was, giggling and chortling at even the slightest hint of a filthy reference; even the ones Logic couldn’t figure out. The tie-clad aspect noted that Patton beside him had also begun looking at Roman strangely after 1 or 2 stifled laughing fits.

The two saw a lot more developments ever since.

The usually regal side had begun swearing; muttering a few “fuck you’s” and “shit’s” whenever he got frustrated. He started to deem his usual colorful ideas as “boring” and now often suggested more controversial topics for Thomas’s daily daydreaming sessions. Logan even caught a glimpse of Roman making art heavily covered in red.

Too red for his tastes.

The dark sides didn’t see Roman, or the other light sides for that matter, too often, but whenever they did see the royal, there was always some sort of update to his wardrobe.

Aside from the increasing streaks of gray and green on his hazel hair, they started to notice his sash turning a darker shade of red outlined by blackish-green, the epaulettes on his shoulders going from its golden tinge to a silver-ish hue, a stark black line appearing to run from the top of his sleeve until his wrist, where a few frills have started to sprout as well.

Now that they mentioned it, his white costume might even be gradually going darker along the monochromatic scale.

They tried to poke fun at him for this at times, hiding their curiosity behind a teasing face and insulting queries; trying to figure out what the hell was happening. Roman merely shrugged them off every single time. 

No witty retort, no less than kind nickname; only a push to the side and a rather rushed walk back to his room, where he spent most of his time nowadays.

Roman was terribly aware of everyone else’s stares and concerns, just as much as he was aware of the growing differences in Thomas’s behavior which was most likely due to the prince himself.

He doesn’t know how many times he tried to color his hair brown or conjure up a different outfit just to get back to his old self, but each time he tried he found himself with the same discolored hair streaks and horridly designed fashion changes.

And of course he’s noticed his behavioral shifts as well. He wasn’t blind.

He never really thought of it much, and attributed the change as a sign of their host merely growing more mature as he neared high school, but a particular occurrence suddenly made the prince hyper-aware of the steep tangent in his act.

See, Thomas had acquired a taste for books lately. Maybe it was his constant isolation from people that brought it about, but needless to say, the fanciful side was grateful for a more imaginative hobby.

While reading a novel one day, they had chanced upon a particular paragraph where the characters shared a short, chaste, kiss. Usually the fanciful side was a fan of this sort of romance; sweet, loving, subtle, but still very much there.

Now, it seemed Roman wasn’t satisfied. 

His creative gears started to tick, seemingly getting faster and faster as his mind throbbed with new ideas.

Suddenly, as if in a daze, Roman found this short description of a romantic kiss dull and inadequate, and began filling his and his host’s head with images of a longer, deeper, more passionate exchange, desperate hands running along bare backs, fingers tangled in sweaty locks of hair, sounds of passion echoing and filling the room, and lips tracing another’s face, neck, down to their chest and abdomen until it reaches - 

_**“ROMAN!”** _

Abruptly, the feverishly heated daydream had stopped. 

Outside, his host had merely shaken off his unusual thoughts and carried on reading, but inside, a certain flushed side was met with a very uncharacteristically _fuming_ Morality gripping him a tad bit too hard at his arms, staring at his own still dilated pupils with the other’s fiery, rage-filled irises.

Behind Patton, Logan was looking at him with his arms crossed, with maybe the tiniest hint of concern in his features.

“Roman, do you have any ideahow _wrong_ those thoughts you were giving Thomas were?!”

Seeing Patton mad was a ‘once in a blue moon’ sort of event, and as much as Roman felt blessed to witness such an occurrence even once, it’s safe to say he was terrified out of his pants at that exact moment.

“I, I was, I didn’t know what was happening Padre, I swea-”

“Do you think I haven’t been keeping an eye on you mister? You’ve been doing all sorts of improper things these past few months! We’ve worked _years_ to get our little guy’s moral compass pointing north but you’re pushing it downwards in the span of _weeks_ , Roman. Weeks!”

“Patton, you might be going a little too hard on Roman. I think it is only natural for Thomas’s creative spectrum to broaden a little as he-”

“Not now, Logan.”

Logan tried to ease the moral facet’s anger and get a few objective points across, but Patton was too engaged in his anger-fueled speech to consider or even just _listen_ to the embodiment of logic. 

At the moment, Patton was giving the equivalent of a pastor’s sermon, trying his best to remind the fanciful side of everything they’ve learned about good and bad since childhood, and how everything Roman’s been doing has been going _against it._

The prince took in every word, branding it in his mind while ignoring the conflicting emotions he felt in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Pat. It won’t happen again. I’ll take better control this time.”

Eventually the older side calmed down, features growing soft, saying sorry to the now ashamed side unable to meet his bespectacled gaze. 

“Sorry I yelled, but it’s alright now kiddo. It’s going to be hard, but we can do this, okay?”

“Okay.”

He leaves Roman a friendly hug before turning to leave the royal’s room.

Logan doesn’t leave without bestowing a few words to the conflicted aspect.

“A word of advice Roman. Don’t let Patton’s words affect you that much, if it could be helped.”

Alone once more in the confines of his red and gold room, Roman replays the most recent events in his head; realizing exactly just how much he’s _changed_ , and how he can barely recognize himself anymore. He finds himself in front of the mirror again, staring at the monstrosity his royal appearance had become.

He spends hours just reflecting; feeding into the growing turmoil in his core and feeling more confused than ever before. 

Soon enough, while feeling _shittier_ than he’s ever been, he’s called on by Patton offering him a batch of apology cookies. 

And honestly, who was he not to accept?

In the commons, he ignores the itching feeling in his chest, and almost chokes on his food when he hears a foreign voice in his mind.

_“Can’t wait for our next big idea, Roman.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dm me for any left out tags or warnings! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Mature language, disgusting imagery, disturbing imagery, sexual imagery, slight blood, slight gore, sinister thoughts, graphic descriptions

The… _thing_ was getting stronger.

It used to be just a mere itch; a minor inconvenience that went away after a small scratch.

Weeks passed and this tiny nuisance steadily grew into a large boulder on his back. It started to feel like an evolution of the classic pins and needles blooming across his chest, then a hundred tiny insects marching and slithering within him. 

It even began as such a rare occurrence; happening only once or twice a month. It then showed up more often, not allowing a week to pass by without causing the prince immense trouble. More weeks passed by and it only grew worse and worse, happening more and more frequently as the months dragged on.

Nowadays, a few hours without that eerie sensation was a _blessing._

The worst part about it wasn’t even the growing monstrosity in him. It was the _voice_ that came with it.

It showed up at the most random times; whispering disgusting, disturbing, or maniacal things up in his head.

_“Ever wondered what dog shit might taste like, Roman?”_

_“Where’s your sense of adventure? Shag him where everyone can see.”  
_

_“What a shiny cutter Thomas is holding. We can have fun with that…”  
_

He was glad it was him hearing all of this and not their still terribly young host, but it was getting quite difficult to tune out his little friend’s suggestions; even more so to keep up an appearance in front of the sides while he listened to such things.

Dinner was always such a charm.

_“Stab him with a fork; better yet, a spoon.”_

_“How are you sure there isn’t cat meat in that meatloaf?”  
_

_“There could be much better things you could be putting in your mouth right now…”  
_

The fanciful side had already begun to notice the worried stares from Patton and the curious looks from Logan. He couldn’t blame them. He was looking like a child with his diaper full; clearly in discomfort and not eating a whole lot.

Eventually, he just stopped coming to dinner altogether.

In the presence of the dark sides, Roman took note of Deceit’s eyebrow raises and Anxiety’s furrowed brows whenever he failed to look ship-shape as the voice murmured into his ear. 

Once alone, he’d let the voice talk as much as it could. There wasn’t any point in drowning it out anyway. Every night Creativity would look at his bare torso in the mirror, tracing the multitude of marks he’d unknowingly put there due to all the scratching and picking. Some would still be bleeding as he stared.

He was sure there were more on his lower half, but the royal didn’t think he can bare to see any more.

For a long time he put up with this; the sensations becoming like a friend and the voice like a brother, but not necessarily good ones.

Just weeks before their last day in middle school, Roman feels it again.

He was arguing with Anxiety of all things. Thomas had been invited to a year-end party; an event all the light sides had lost hope of ever witnessing but there they were now, excited about their host’s possible positive shift in his social life.

Of course, the anxious facet just had to appear in the middle of them 3, adamant to convince their smiling host of how bad of an idea it was to attend.

Naturally, Roman was having none of it.

He was in the middle of a rather loud and valid point when he recognizes that very familiar, yet very unwelcome feeling of something crawling under his skin.

His hands reflexively reach for his chest, where the sensation seemed to be at its strongest. He takes back a bit of control by passing off this movement as one of his dramatic gestures.

He tries to control the twitching of his eyes and ignore the unbearable itch that had begun to creep down his back. He does his best to lend all ears to his opponent’s points but almost all his attention is devoured by the discomfort spreading through his body.

“Listen up, Princey. I don’t really care how _good_ this is for his social life, I only care about his _safety._ ”

“Just this one time, racoon. Just. This. _ONCE,_ let our host _breathe_ and live a little! Do you want him to be a hermit for the rest of his life?”

“What if the invitation is a prank, huh? What if he gets hurt there? What if something bad happens? Can we even tr ust a n y o n e t h e r e . . .”

It’s getting unbearable, and Anxiety’s heightening voice is beginning to fade out into a blur for the prince; but he still thinks he can fake his way just a little bit more…

_“Why don’t we just put our dagger straight into his heart, Ro-ro? Certainly easier than standing here and arguing, hmm? The dagger is just **so** **close PrInCeY.** ”_

Roman doesn’t even notice when his hand had begun clutching the weapon around his waist so tight that his knuckles turned white.

He needed to get out of there.

“Okay, you know what, Anxiety? I am no longer in the mood for this nonsense. Thomas is going. Whether you like it or not, _he’s going._ ”

He didn’t mean to shove the flabbergasted side away that harshly, but it was near impossible to hold proper control anymore with that damned voice getting louder and louder every second.

The second he’s within the confines of his room, his hands begin to move unconsciously; reaching and scratching wherever he feels that indescribable sensation.

He drops to his bedroom floor, wishing he had more fingers and limbs to pick at every simultaneous centipede-like ministrations crawling beneath his dermis.

_“Don’t you just feel like tearing your skin off? It’d be just like peeling an orange, Ro…”_

He screams and thrashes on the ground ‘till his vocal chords burn; nails digging into his scalp, face, neck, chest, abdomen, arms, and legs, leaving not an inch of skin uncomfortably crawled over on by his burning army of imaginary insects and untouched by his own searing hands.

The now graying suit becomes speckled with small spots of red as iron-smelling drops seep out of a few marks that were dug into too deeply. His fingernails, now decorated with rust-like stains, have found its way to his hair; pulling the green, gray, and white strands as hard as he can, hoping to find some sort of release.

The same quivering hands leave his tussled mess of a crown and settle hardly on his ears; trying to shut out the deafening voice that was billowing and echoing within the chasms of his mind.

_“What do you think Thomas is up to now? Think I should go check?”  
_

_“This whole room would look beautiful in green. Or maybe just red. Buckets, and buckets of red.”_

_“Just piss and shit yourself right here and now, Roman. Now that would be a show.”  
_

The suffering aspect can only wish for whatever this is to end; anything to get it out of him _please_.

His entire body bends, twists, and squirms against the carpet; it’s soft tufts heating up from the friction all his ruckus had created. His eyelids are shut impossibly tight; almost enough to push his eyeballs further in from the strain.

The voice laughs, the loudest it can, and the sensations flare up at its strongest.

_“Can’t wait to meet you, brother.”_

It’s the last thing he hears before a searing, burning pain surges through his head and body, and he passes out.

When Logan and Patton finally manage to break open Roman’s door, the former freezes and the latter gasps at the sight of the unconscious embodiment of creativity splayed on the bedroom floor.

His suit and pants are torn and filthy, as though he ran through a tall and thick thorn bush. His entire form is littered in scratches and decorated with a few specks of fresh and dried blood. His nails are crooked and stained, with the disheveled carpet beneath him showing signs of struggle.

They quickly scramble to his side and see the pained and exhausted expression on his face. Morality cards his hands through his knotted hair to discover even more wounds and scabs.

They lift their friend up and settle him onto his bed, wet and dry towels and a first-aid kit ready by their side. 

As the two let their gazes scan Roman’s fragile being, they can only wonder when and why his hair had gone back to its rich, deep brown hue or when the black frills had suddenly gone from his wrists. They ponder how his clothes had gone back to its stark white, the epaulettes back to a glittering gold, and the sash to its bright red.

This enigma is the only thing they can think of as they try their best to nurse him back to health.

On the other side of the mindscape, Virgil and Janus heard every single heart-wrenching scream that fought its way out of Princey’s throat. They heard the two elder sides shouting for their counterpart, charging and attacking the red door until the royal’s hoarse voice came to a sudden halt, followed by the sound of something being forcefully broken open.

The very second the screaming had stopped, a blinding glow had found its way on their uneven, cracked walls. Checking to see what it is, they find themselves in utter disbelief, staring and gaping as they stand before the last thing they expected to see ever since the creative prince had gone in disarray.

A door slowly forming, decorated with an emblem in the shape of a sword, with almost every element of it an obvious contrast to a certain fanciful side’s very own emblem.

They readied themselves as the bright green door slowly opened; revealing yet another prince-like figure standing before them, a morning star slung over his shoulder, wearing the very complements to Roman’s regal white and red:

A menacing black and green.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Slight disturbing imagery, mature language, slight sexual innuendos, slight gore, mention of wounds

Janus knew that he himself looked a bit intimidating during his first moments in the mindscape, but this new guy was an entirely new thing.

His hair was the same rich, soft, hazel as all of them, but decorated by an obvious wisp of white at the front of his waves.

His clothes were a striking shade of black, adorned with an unusual shade of green for his sash and other accents. Not to mention he had a lot of extra details to his clothing, like an exaggerated collar and frills by his shoulders and his wrists.

His face looked familiar, but the dark bags under his eyes made him look more minacious than Anxiety and Deceit combined.

The pointed weapon confidently slung over his shoulders gave off a vibe that screamed “ready to kill you in an instant,” and the wide grin that had begun creeping on his face _definitely_ didn’t creep off the other two.

Now that they thought about it, he kind of looked like… Roman; but maybe if you put the royal through a negative photo filter.

Fully aware of how long they must have already been staring, Janus decided to give this new side the welcome neither he nor Virgil got, but definitely deserved.

“I know the place looks a little stuffy, but welcome to the mindscape. He’s Virgil, and I’m Janus. We represe-”

“Where’s Roman?”

Well, they weren’t expecting that.

Virgil seemed to suddenly gain an interest in this break of tradition and pulled the courage to speak up.

“How… why are you looking for him?”

“I don’t really know. Just kind of woke up with the name Roman bouncing around in my head like a parrot having a seizure.”

Janus and Virgil tried not to gape, but the bold imagery that seemed to come natural to him might take a bit of getting used to. They’ve only known him less than 5 minutes after all.

“I uh… we think we should finish introductions first before we show you to the others. Virgil?”

“Right, uhm… we have a host, Thomas, and I represent his anxiety.”

“Lovely to meet you, I’m his deceitful side. Now, there’s no pressure if you’re still unsu-”

Janus was unceremoniously cut off by the new aspect suddenly grabbing his hands; shaking them with a wide, unreadable smile on his face.

“I’m Creativity! Great to meet both of you!”

Anxiety and Deceit looked at the side claiming to be Thomas’s creativity in confusion. The new guy finally let go of Janus’ hand, and the other two look on in fascination, curiosity, and a tiny sprinkling of disgust as a web of slimy substance clung to both Creativity’s bare hands and Deceit’s gloved ones.

“With all due respect, Creativity, why is it wet?”

“Probably just gorilla snot but now back to the question. Where is Roman?”

Right now Virgil was stifling his laughter as Janus pondered what to do with his dripping glove. He tried to talk in between his suppressed laughter.

“We’ll go see him in a bit, gorilla fingers, but I think you’re still a tad bit confused about your role. See, _Roman_ , is Creativity. Take a bit of time, it’ll come to you.”

“I can come right now if that’s what you wanted.”

“No-”

“But I am very, _very_ sure that _I’m_ Creativity. Now can we go see my brother?”

_Brother?!_

The two shared a look that screamed all sorts of questions. 

Taking another look at the side who was now testing the sharpness of his weapon by piercing his own fingers, they figured they really shouldn’t be surprised that this persona who was wearing a darker version of Roman’s outfit was related to him.

Maybe it wasn’t impossible to have two embodiments of Creativity either.

The dark trio simultaneously turned their heads when they heard the sound of a door being opened. Virgil peeked past their hallway to see Logan and Patton getting out of the fanciful side’s door; both looking exhausted and worried.

Virgil thought back to the royal’s strange behavior this past year and all the unconventional changes to his appearance. He still clearly remembered their argument that very morning and how Roman prematurely ended it only to stomp into his room, where he’d spend the next half hour or so screaming and struggling before his silence brought about a green, glowing door beside Deceit’s yellow one.

He took another glance at the side clad in black and suddenly, the anxious facet seemed to have finally finished a puzzle he’d been trying to solve for quite some time.

“Hey, dark creativity dude.”

“Yes, Virgin?”

Janus had resorted to closing his eyes in exasperation while Virgil took in a quick, deep breath, trying his best not to mind any other quip coming from him.

“Come on, we’ll take you to see Roman.”

The half-reptilian side snapped his head towards Virgil who had already begun walking with an unnervingly giddy side trailing behind him. Janus picked up his pace until he was walking by Anxiety’s side and began whispering to his purple-clad counterpart.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? You know how _wonderful_ our relationship is with those hypocritical _angels._ ”

“He needs this, Janus. Think of it, with what’s been happening to Roman lately, including the most recent shit show, the guy might as well have been _born_ from Princey.”

Janus took a few seconds just staring at Virgil while recollecting everything he could about their fanciful fiend’s recent endeavors. He decided the emo had a point.

Logan and Patton already saw them coming before they could even step foot in the bright hallway. Instinctively, Patton stood directly in front of the red door, with Logan remaining where he stood in the middle of the hall.

“What brings you here?”

Logan sounded calm and collected as ever, but Janus could perfectly see how his eyes were not even fixated at them, but on the figure standing behind them, swinging his weapon as if it were a golf club.

“No need for your _ecstatic_ greetings, Logic. If you haven’t noticed yet, Thomas has gotten himself a new side. Just thought we’d be good scapemates and show him around.”

Both dark sides were thoroughly amused by the unsettling feeling that had begun to creep on the logical facet, and more so on the moral facet, at the sight of their new companion. Either way, Logan adjusted his tie and made himself presentable for said company.

“I suppose introductions are indeed in order. Salutations, I’m Thomas’s logical side. That over there is Morality. I can guess you’ve already acquainted yourself with Anxiety and Deceit.”

“Oh, liven up a little, specs. I’m Creativity, Roman’s brother.”

Both the logical and moral facets had to pause at the statement. Not only was this aspect claiming to be _Creativity_ , but he was talking about being the royal’s brother?

The absurdity was enough to break Patton’s silence.

“It’s uh… nice to meet you kiddo, but I think you got yourself all mixed up here. We’ve been here for a long time and we all know that Ro-”

“ _That Roman is Creativity,_ yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it from everyone already, but surprise, surprise! I am too. Can I _please_ see him?”

The four other aspects in the hall exchanged an uncountable number of glances before Patton moved out of the way and allowed the morning star-bearing side to open his brother’s door to meet him.

All four internally agreed that them being here, face-to-face with each other, was quite awkward. None of them knew where to look or what to do. Virgil decided to say something before his anxiety even began to flare up.

“So uh… are we not going to talk about this?”

Logan, as if suddenly remembering an important detail, quickly butt in the conversation.

“I think I must mention that Roman is currently-”

“Hey Thomatubbies, why the hell is my brother half dead? Look at him! You three must have had _way too much fun_ in here. Tone it down next time!”

The 2 dark sides looked at the other two after hearing the new aspect shout from within the partially opened door.

“…unconscious. And probably will be for the next couple of days.”

All four peered through the small opening and saw their eccentric new counterpart sitting by the prince’s side, gently repositioning the blanket draped over him so as not to disturb the bandages.

It was almost adorable, yet there were still more pressing matters to address.

“So what are we gonna tell the guy?”

“What do you mean, Anx?”

“Haven’t you two figured it out yet?”

“I’m sorry Anxiety but surely you recall that we were inside Roman’s room for the entirety of the new side’s appearance.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one, Logic?”

Deceit scoffed, eyes still trained on the sibling interaction going on.

“You really expect the _light_ sides to get on our level of thinking?”

“Hey now, no more bickering fellas, can you please tell us what you mean Anxiety?”

Anxiety shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets with an impatient huff.

“Dark Princey here is probably the reason why original Princey was screaming ‘till eventually getting knocked out in the first place.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Look at ‘em, smart-ass. All the wacky changes to Sir Sing-A-Lot’s attire is suddenly back to normal and, oh, would you look at that, the duke’s clothes look a lot like those changes were suddenly transported to him.”

Janus whipped his head back towards the other three from where he was still peering in the room.

“I’m definitely calling him the duke from now on. Also, may I add the fact that his literal first words in the mindscape were ‘ _where’s Roman?’_ ”

One could practically see the synapses working through Logan and Patton’s brain cells are they pieced the puzzle together.

“But Deceit, wouldn’t that mean that Thomas has 2 creative sides now?”

“Well, I don’t want to assume, but I guess that just might be so. Maybe one just can’t keep Thomas’s imagination locked inside a rainbow and butterfly-patterned box as much as one tries, huh?”

Patton was aware of the piercing look Deceit was giving him at the moment. The stare made him want to shrink into his cardigan before it bore through his eyes and through his soul.

Virgil’s hands got out of his jacket again.

“Yeah, well, that still doesn’t answer the question. We can’t just tell him that he was brought into this world by Roman suffering ‘till he looked like a Disney prince reject _._ ”

“So he wasn’t mauled by some beast?” 

Four heads turned to face the duke standing by the door, weapon held lowly and loosely in his right hand.

“My brother is out cold and covered in bandages because of… _me?_ ”

Patton instinctively tried to comfort the clearly distressed side.

“Hey, no, listen new guy-”

“Remus. He’s Roman so I figured I’d just be Remus.”

“That is actually an excellent reference. I’m impresse-.”

“Shut up, nerd.”

Patton proceeded with his efforts, bearing in mind the fact that they already knew the newest dark side’s name without even knowing the elder two’s yet.

“Oh, well, Remus, I’m sure Roman will understand. You’re his brother after all.”

Janus thought this was a good time to cut Morality short.

“And don’t worry Remus, you being here is neither you or Roman’s fault _at all_. I’m sure you’ll be sharing whatever ideas both of you have stuck in your head with each other in no time.”

The moral facet could no longer look Janus in the eye.

The nervous look on the duke’s face was swiftly replaced by the usual sly and shit-eating grin he wore.

“Yeah, you’re right snakey. I can already imagine the bloodshed from the grueling duels we’ll be having with this thing and that sword. Though I’m already certain I can do a _lot_ more damage.”

“Doesn’t Princey have a _dagger_?”

“Are you still talking about his weapon, emo? ‘Cause all I saw there was a big, long, sharp, metal sword.” 

“Oh, I guess Roman just had to have _one_ last change.”

With a wave of his arm, and a very close encounter of the morning star to Logic’s face, the weapon was made to vanish in thin air, replaced with a stick of deodorant that the new side uncapped and began to… eat?

“Welp, this was fun! I think Thomas is doing a project, and with Ro-ro looking like a pathetic corpse over there, I think I better go and give him some _inspiration._ ”

Judging by the manic glint in Remus’s eyes, they were guessing the creative prowess he held over Thomas wasn’t the same as the one Roman had.

For the meantime, it seemed as though an unspoken, temporary truce had been made between the two sides of the scape, at least maybe until the fanciful side woke up.

Who knows, maybe Roman and Remus might finally be that bridge between the two lobes of the mindscape Virgil and Janus have been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't feel shy to tell me if I left out any tags or warnings! Follow me @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Disturbing imagery, mature language, gore, mention of wounds, mention of pornographic materials

It was like living with a **_toddler._**

It had only been 2 days since Roman’s brother appeared and already they were all tired of keeping up with Remus’s creative antics. 

Remus would rarely even be seen in his room. Maybe it was his _still_ unconscious brother that left him with an utter disregard for the unspoken division of the two sides of the mindscape, or maybe he really just liked roaming around and messing with the rest of its inhabitants.

Usually it was Virgil and Janus left enjoying the duke’s company; mostly due to Patton and Logan spending most of their time tending to Roman and making sure he woke up the soonest possible.

That didn’t mean Remus didn’t have fun with those two as well, though.

In the span of 2 long days, all four had already experienced the “wonders” of Remus’s creative powers.

Patton, for instance, found his throat producing an ear-piercing shriek as a very real-looking eyeball floated up in his bowl of soup on the evening of Remus’s arrival. He heard the duke cackle as he shakily fished the eye out of his food and into the trash.

Logan was treated to a rather unusual surprise not long after that, when every book in his personal library was suddenly replaced with pornographic materials and _terribly graphic_ graphic novels. It took a lot of negotiation to get his possessions back.

Virgil, initially soundly content in his room, fell out of the shelf he was sitting on when a loud, ear-shattering scream wormed its way through his headphones in the middle of one his more soothing song choices.

Janus certainly wasn’t pleased when he opened his door only to be greeted by a sea of dead snakes flooding his floor. It _definitely_ didn’t make him sick at all.

Not to mention the fact that one morning Remus actually had the gall to walk from his room all the way to his brother’s, _stark naked_ ; having slept that way and not bothering to dress up ‘cause “there was no need to.”

By the 3rd day, they were all _exhausted._

So when Roman finally opened his eyes during Patton’s shift after 3 days of being bed-ridden, the moral side practically ran to the door, elatedly informing Logan that the royal was awake before running back in to tend to the newly-conscious side’s needs.

Logan took it upon himself to relay the information to Anxiety and Deceit, who made sure that Remus was well-prepared and debriefed for his first meeting with his brother. After all, they still had no clue regarding how Roman would react to an individual that was basically everything the royal was not.

It took another 3 hours to get the fanciful side fed, bathed, re-oriented, and updated regarding the events of the past 3 days. Roman took a while to let it all sink in. He asked a lot of questions, all of which Patton was gladly obliged to answer and clarify; but it was the word _brother_ that really confused the royal. 

“So, you’re telling me that I have a brother?”

“Yes.”

“And his name is Remus.”

“Yes.”

“And he’s a duke.”

“Yep.”

“And he appeared _the exact moment_ that I passed out 3 days ago.”

“Weird, huh? But yeah.”

“And he’s… _also_ Creativity?”

“Yeah… but a, uhm… different? Kind?” Patton rubbed at his neck as he answered Roman’s last query with an unsure look on his face.

Roman was thoroughly confused, but eventually, he told his cardigan-clad friend that he was ready to meet this…Remus.

Patton did insist on just bringing the duke in so Roman could remain in bed or at least seated, but the prince was determined to put on his best appearance and meet his brother in the commons. He thought it was the proper and regal thing to do.

As he got up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and had to do a double take. 

He was… Roman; or at least the version of himself he knew best. His hair was once again that rich hazel color, the bags under his eyes had vanished, and his royal attire had returned to its original design and color. He had a splattering of shallow marks all over him, sure, but for the first time in so long, he finally felt like a prince again. 

Come to think of it, the voice hadn’t talked for a while and the crawling sensation was… gone. He was starting to think this _brother_ of his was a good omen. 

He took a deep breath, grabbed the… sword? Since when did that happen? And headed out into the commons with Patton walking close beside him.

Everyone turned to look at him as if the pope had just come into their presence, but the individual that caught Roman’s eye was the persona beside Deceit clad in awfully familiar clothing. He took a better look at the figure and saw a lot, perhaps too much, recognizable details like the white streak in his hair, the green in his sash, the frills on his wrists, the black of his suit. 

The individual finally saw Roman, and a wide grin was quickly plastered onto his face as he quite excitedly and swiftly walked towards the prince.

“You’re alive, Ro-ro! Nice to know you’re not a zombie yet, brother.”

_Ro-ro. Brother. That **voice.**_

Roman knew that voice all too well. He tried not to show how much he was trembling as he remembered every word that voice whispered or even _screamed_ in his head, the feeling of all the creepy-crawlies inching under his skin, and the searing pain he felt _that day._ His mind throbbed from a series of flashbacks, flashing images of a troubled version of himself with scabs all over his body, hair that wasn’t his, and clothes not of his own.

He almost didn’t notice Remus extend a hand towards him. Out of courtesy, Roman took it with the best smile he could muster; only for his lips to slowly morph into an expression of horror as the hand in his slowly melted from skin to muscle until only the skeleton was left exposed clutching his fleshed digits.

Still trying to put a respectable appearance, the prince looked Remus in the eye once again; probably to avoid seeing the bones he felt on his fingertips, and forced out some proper words.

“Greetings, brother. It’s… a pleasure to see you as well.”

The duke finally withdrew his bony hand which had just begun growing back its flesh. Behind them, the other sides were either trying their best not to get sick or to avoid their gaze out of severe second hand embarrassment from the scene unfolding before them.

“Nice little trick huh? I have plenty more up my sleeve, brother dear.”

“I’m sure there are. So, I hear you’re Thomas’s creativity as well?”

“Uh-huh, but the more _exciting_ kind.”

Exciting sure wasn’t the word Roman would use as he gazed at his brother’s now fleshed-out but still skinless hand. The prince’s eyes suddenly snapped back to meet Remus’s pupils as a thought suddenly dawned on him.

“Hold on just a second. I’ve been out for 3 days. Does that mean-”

“It sure does Ro-ro; and I’m glad to report that me and Thomas had the _most fun_ during those 3 days. He’s _brimming_ with so much creative inspiration, it’s as if you were never gone.”

The royal’s body was filled with dread at the thought of that same voice that tormented him for months filling their host’s mind; tainting it green and gray. Roman wanted _so much_ to just lash out at this persona in front of him, take revenge on the torture that he had to go through and protect Thomas from such demented ideas,

But whenever the word _brother_ popped into the prince’s head, he found himself succumbing to the shackles of a familial relation, reminding himself that this figure in front of him basically came from… _him_ ; leaving Roman unable to do anything but compromise.

“Right, uhm, thank you for that, Remus.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, Princey. Believe me, Thomas is _going places_ now that both of us are in here.”

“Of course, of course; but about that…”

The duke still had his gaze trained solely on Roman, head unconsciously tilted sideways as he waited for what his brother had to say.

“As creative aspects we both have all the rights to influence Thomas; after all, art is still, uhm, art. Yes?”

Remus made a small sound of agreement and a singular nod.

“As aspects of his personality our goal is to look out for his exemplary best, and I think it’d be best for our host if I… still maintained… most of the, uhm… creative influence…?”

The side in green was silent, and to Roman, it was as if a dozen emotions crossed his features in the span of seconds. Everyone around them were equally quiet, aware of the heavy air now settling on all of them. The length of the pause was maddening; you could practically _see_ every second that passed. Before the surroundings got even heavier, the duke finally and suddenly settled for his well-known grin once again.

“Oh, well, you’re the older brother so why the hell not. 51-49 it is!”

“Uhm-”

Roman didn’t even get the chance to comment on the sheer insignificance of “51-49″ due to Remus suddenly and quite ecstatically pulling him into a hug strong enough to pull him off the ground.

“Well, see ya later lettuce. I have some ideas to brew. _Literally_.”

Just like that, Remus was on his way back into his room with a bit of a skip in his step, and a trail of muddy footsteps left in his wake for some bloody reason.

Roman didn’t even say anything to the other dark or light sides. He simply turned around and waled straight into his quarters.

Don’t get Roman wrong. He was grateful for the prospect of having a sibling, and one that was practically his own flesh and blood; but he was terrified that this supposed “gift” would prove to be more of a curse than a blessing. He once again found himself in front of his mirror, his reflection staring hauntingly back at him. He thought he saw himself flicker into the image of Remus, beaming a menacing smile back at him for a split second. It was enough for his mind to send him spiraling down again into painful memories of the _voice,_ and for his body to send him stumbling back.

With this, the fanciful side was determined to keep Remus’s hold over Thomas in _strict control._ He wasn’t about to allow this obviously questionable character to have a strong influence over their host. Heaven knows what sinister concoctions he had in store for them and for Thomas. 

He was a prince whose sworn duty was to protect Thomas Sanders, keep him happy, at his best, and on the right track. 

He’d do whatever it takes.

~~~

A few days later and Roman was seemingly back to his old self. Thomas still ended up going to that party, and the royal made sure that Anxiety or the other two didn’t ruin this opportunity for the young Sanders with their suggestions. 

He didn’t waste a single second in coming up with the grandest ideas and inspiring Thomas with the creative flair he had oh, so terribly missed. He felt as though, once again, he was finally at his best.

The only problem was, that Remus was seemingly at his best too.

He’d always have _some_ sort of contribution that genuinely irritated Roman. Whether it be a steep tangent during a brainstorming session, a skewed version of the prince’s colorful thoughts, or a sudden unwarranted thought while they indulged in a movie or a book, the duke was adamant on having as much of a seat on the table as Roman did.

The others saw the rather toxic interaction going on between the two. They saw the… unusual things Remus offered Thomas and they definitely saw how _hard_ Roman was trying to tolerate his brother while trying to divert their host’s attention from the duke’s voice.

This went on until Thomas Sanders was well into high school.

Thomas had decided to try making a video as a hobby halfway through 9th grade, and naturally, both aspects of creativity were pleased.

Of course, it was proving to be extremely difficult.

Roman was going all out with his suggestions, and all sides could agree that the video was looking great so far, but for Remus, none of that was enough.

He found it dull and unimaginative, something made for kid’s TV. So, he tried his best to spice things up a bit. He’d butt in sometimes to sprinkle in a few cuss words to make his expressions more colorful. He’d sneak in a very graphic image for a more attention-grabbing analogy, and suggest risky actions that might make their host leave a more lasting impression.

Through the entire thing, the others watched the prince slowly lose his mind as he fought for control with his own brother.

Roman’s fist clenched and unclenched, his jaw stiffened with tension, his lips pressed into a thin, straight line, his eyes twitched, and his forehead creased.

As Remus cackled while he let Thomas childishly flip off the camera with both middle fingers, Roman finally snapped.

**_“ENOUGH!”_ **

The entire mindscape grew silent as they watched Roman, trembling with rage, tower over Remus. There was a terrifying fire in his eyes as he stared the duke down, breaths deep and heavy from unfiltered anger.

“I have had enough of this, Remus! I’ve tried _so hard_ for too long to put up with your maniacal nonsense and dear Zeus **_I can’t take it anymore_** _!_ ”

They’ve never seen Remus’s shit-eating grin get wiped off that quickly, and it seemed it wasn’t going back for a while.

“Ro-ro-”

“No. Believe me, I’ve tried to see the creative merit in what you do but until now I just _don’t_ see it. All you’ve done so far is make our host look like a horny, disgusting, and demented human being, when all we’ve done before you came is to make him _anything but that._ ”

The fear in Remus’s eyes were slowly replaced by pain, rage, sorrow, and a handful of other things burning inside him.

“Roman, if this is about the pain I caused you when I was born then I’m sorry-”

The royal scoffed and inched even closer towards his “foe.”

“Oh, I am well past that. This is not about me, Remus. This is about Thomas, and how I want you _out of his life._ ”

The prince’s head had become void of all rational thinking; his emotions taking over and spilling out from his heart and flooding his mind. His blood boiled and his face was red as pained memoirs of the _voice_ clouded his thoughts and allowed blood-curdling anger to spread all throughout his body.

The others thought now was a good time as any to interfere.

“Roman, I suggest that you take a little time to breathe-”

“No time for that Logan.”

“Hey, Princey, don’t you think that’s a bit too mu-”

“Shut it, Anxiety.”

“Kiddo, please I think you’re going too far.”

Now it was Janus’s turn to scoff at the moral side.

“ _You_ think he’s going too far? Weren’t you the one who guilt-tripped his _royal highness_ into suppressing what were supposed to be natural thoughts? Wasn’t it _your_ unrealistic idealism that drove Creativity to literally separate the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’? Isn’t this whole ordeal because of _you_ , Morality?”

Patton stammered, then resorted to staring at the ground, resembling a child picking at the loose threads of his cardigan, unable to look anyone in the eye after Janus’s words.

“You leave Pat out of this Deceit. This is not about anyone else but Remus, me, and Thomas.”

The duke took a weak step back, as if increasing the distance between him and Roman would do anything to vanquish his seething rage.

“Ro-ro, I’m only trying to help. I only want Thomas to have his _full_ creative spectrum!”

“No, you want Thomas to have hisexisting creative spectrum tainted _filthy_ by whatever the hell you’re cooking up there in your head.”

Every word Roman threw at his sibling was a punch to his face. The royal didn’t even need the sword anymore; Remus thought his words felt a thousand times sharper.

Seeing the green-sashed aspect in distress, Janus tried to quickly reason with Roman once more.

“For fuck’s sake Roman! Pump the damned brakes! He’s still your _brothe-._ ”

**_“A brother? I have no such thing.”_   
**

Silence fell on them like a 10-ton truck. The expressions on the others’ faces were unreadable, but Remus’s spoke volumes. The tear that fell from the duke’s eye in that moment held hundreds of words that he wanted, _needed,_ to say, but couldn’t.

If Roman’s eyes held even the slightest amount of regret, his years of acting made sure it never saw the light of day as he walked away and back into his room.

Not a single person in the mindscape spoke a word for the remainder of that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit the dms if you notice a missing tag or warning! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Disturbing imagery, mentions of blood, gore, mature language, thunder and lightning

The mindscape changed after that.

If the division between the two groups of sides were merely metaphorical before, now it seemed it had become literal. The light sides found this out when Patton screamed for the others to wake up upon finding the dark hallway closed off and back into it’s original form: a blank, white, wall.

The dark sides realized the same thing, seeing a gray, uneven wall filled with cracks standing where their light counterparts’ rooms once stood.

It took approximately 24 hours for Logan to figure out that they could actually pass through that wall if they expended enough energy; but upon seeing the dark sides’ questioning glares regarding his sudden and surprising presence in their area, he quickly took the hint and went back to his own common area.

Even with Logic’s convenient discovery, no one really went through that divide unless entirely necessary.

Roman and Remus never even touched it; not even once.

For a while, each half of the mindscape felt like a pinprick could vanquish their tranquility. 

Patton forced a smile on every time he faced the other two; Janus’s accusations circling his mind, taunting him with thoughts of everything that had just occurred being his fault.

Roman worked himself dry, milking his mind of daydreams and ideas, filling Thomas’s head with tendrils of creativity as much and as often as he could, if it meant there’d be no space for his bro- _Remus’s_ contributions.

Logan tried his hardest to converse with Patton and Roman in a civil manner, spewing logical arguments regarding how their behavior is affecting Thomas’s own attitude and outlooks. He would never admit it, but he had become far too overworked keeping their host in line while the two emotional sides sifted through their turmoil.

On the other side, Virgil’s anxiousness and power seemed to only get stronger, inevitably heightening their host’s own anxiety. He took notice of every single thing Thomas did, wishing he could just keep their host indoors if it meant being safe from every possible negative event that could occur.

Janus only grew more defensive, opting to take his deceitful ways to its pinnacle by convincing their high-schooler to get himself a girlfriend in hopes of escaping the painful slurs and piercing stares from their peers. He felt Roman’s frustration with this all the way from the other side of the wall, but he never cared about that; only for self-preservation.

Remus looked far from the energetic, eccentric, bouncy side that had greeted them during his arrival. He locked himself in his room, trapped by his own amalgamation of sinister, creative thoughts. He wasted his hours away trying to silence his own mind and suppress his own abilities, hoping it might possibly amend his relationship with Roman.

For almost a year it remained like this for both sides of the divide, but eventually in one part, Patton healed, Roman calmed down, and Logan relaxed. 

It took some time, effort, and a _lot_ of communication, but soon enough the trio were back to their old selves, carrying out their old duties. All three could finally say with pride that things were looking up for them and their host.

Around that same time, on the wall’s darker side, Janus, sick of the stagnant state of things in their half, finally forced himself into Remus’s room, uncaring for the mess of oozing blood dripping down his walls, the thorns jutting out of the floor, the gaping cavity that used to be his bed, the variety of human body parts stuck to the ceiling, and the slew of rotting rats stacked up in the corner.

He almost didn’t locate the duke slumped over his table of bones, looking smaller and fragile than he’d ever looked before.

A single second of human touch sent all of the projections away in the blink of an eye, leaving behind an honestly decent-looking room decorated in green and black. Remus lifted his head up to meet Deceit’s half-reptilian face. The duke’s eyes were blood-shot, and the dark circles around them had become more defined.

“What do you want, double-D?” Remus asked as he sniffled; picking off pieces of knotted strands from his hair.

“First of all, _no_ , I do not have two of those.” Janus replied, pointing a finger at his friend.

Remus blessed Janus with a soft chuckle and a hint of a smile before allowing him to continue.

“Second, I was wondering whether the duke would be interested in sharing his _unique_ ideas again with Thomas?”

The smile on his face suddenly dropped.

“You know very well that that can’t happen Janus. My brother won’t allow it.”

Remus’s shoulders slumped down and Janus’s brows furrowed.

_“A brother? You have no such thing.”_

The gloved side offered him a soft, genuine smile and extended his hand. Remus spent a few seconds just staring at it, but reluctantly took it anyway, allowing the corner of his lips to curl upwards as well.

Deceit stared at the slime covering his gloves and raised his eyebrow fondly at his counterpart.

“Old habits die hard, huh?”

It had been so long since Janus heard Remus’s manic chuckle. He swore he wasn’t letting it go unheard again.

Remus may have lost a brother, but he earned a family in Virgil and Janus. They were aware of the light sides’ despise towards them, and they worked through that. 

Janus hid his effects from their “good” colleagues behind small, white lies and the premise of protecting Thomas’s own good.

Virgil, with a little help from the other two, managed to get his anxiety a tad bit under control. He knew he still had such a profound effect on their host, but the three took pride in the fact that Lo, Ro, and Pat couldn’t really do much about it since none of them dared to cross over to the dark trio’s space.

Remus took comfort in unpredictability; creeping up on Thomas when he least expected, wrapping his thoughts around Thomas’s head as he neared sleep, and subtly littering his videos and conversations with questionable but interesting content that would have passed over Roman’s head.

Both halves of the mindscape seemed content with this act, each doing their part for their host, unconsciously aware of the powers of the beings in the other side but consciously ignorant of their very presence.

None of them ever dared mention “the split,” or the dreaded day when two brothers became two strangers.

~~~

Their host had thrived excellently in theater after college, and eventually settled for a career in YouTube. As Creativity, Remus was ultimately pleased with the decision.

Besides, a more mature Thomas meant more mature content.

Thomas’s sexuality was no longer an issue anymore, hasn’t been for years, but Janus was well and ready to defend their host and themselves if any conflict arose, even if that meant deceiving their way to the audience’s heart. 

Virgil had a ton to say about the matter. He went on about how big of a risk this was, the possibility of failures, the absence of a fallback plan, and a truckload more of concerns that he thought he wouldn’t be able to be bear if it went unheard.

So when they learnt of the light sides making their physical presences known to Thomas himself during one video, they knew eventually he’d _have_ to know about his other, darker sides as well.

Virgil thought there really was no point in waiting, and appeared before Thomas not long after the light trio did. 

Janus and Remus can’t say they weren’t proud of their friend.

Roman was furious that one of _them_ really had the gall to torment their host this way when they had already built such a graceful balance through the years. He never really hid that fact whenever Anxiety appeared; emphasizing his hatred through demeaning nicknames and offending scowls.

But one particular video changed everything.

Deceit and Remus had already started to notice how Virgil started to frequent in Thomas’s videos; always as the antagonist, but still appearing nonetheless. One day the villainy got too much to bear for their friend, and they ended up consoling him when he decided to “duck out.”

“Alright, this has to stop Virgil. They don’t like y- _us_ , and they never will. Ducking out might just be the right thing to do… for now.”

“Yeah, emo. Let’s face it, those moths are gonna burn one day from flying around their little light. They won’t ever see us eye to eye, Virge.”

Virgil’s head snapped at them and spoke with a venom they’ve never heard him use on them before.

“Can you both just _get out_? _Please_?”

The statement came as a shock to the two, but they opted to understand their friend in his confused state and leave him alone.

They pretended it didn’t hurt when Thomas, along with Logan, Patton, and Roman sank down into Anxiety’s room, offering Virgil acceptance and ultimately, a full seat on the table; with their anxious friend sharing their most well-kept secret just minutes after they leave his room:

His name.

Remus heard everything Roman uttered in the jacket-clad side’s room minutes ago, and he found himself wishing all of those, or even just _some_ of those reconciling statements were for _him_.

Since that day Virgil began talking to them less and to the light trio more. He’d spend minutes, then hours, then almost entire days on the other side of the wall. 

“Have you lost your mind Virgil?!”

“Look, Janus, I know they mistreated us, and they were absolute shit for that, but they’re open to understanding us now-”

“No, Anx, they’re open to understanding _you_ , not us.” Remus was towering over Virgil now, fueled with memories of another particular side that abandoned him years ago.

“Come on, Remus, if you two would just _try._ I mean, we can’t just ignore the fact that they exist forever.”

“Like how they treated us as if we were just lifeless bodies lying around, decaying on the other side of the mindscape for the last 15 years?!”

Virgil felt so small in the presence of Remus and Janus, and the anxious facet had unconsciously started walking backwards in defense.

“They’ve _changed_ , guys! Maybe it’s time we do too!”

They’re conversation was cut off when Virgil’s door began glowing bright, brighter than when they first arrived, and the second they could once again look at their rooms, the purple door was gone.

They heard the light sides’ commotion in the other end of the divide seconds after the door vanished, and immediately the pieces clicked.

“Well, looks like one of us _has_ changed. Goodbye Virgil, have fun on the other side.”

“Remus, Jan, I-… “ Anxiety stared at Remus’s rage and betrayal-filled eyes, and then at Janus who couldn’t even bear to meet his face.

_“Fine_.”

And then there were two.

~~~

Since then, Remus held on to Janus like a man holding on for dear life off a deep cliff.

With only two of them left, they became as vigilant as ever. They monitored Thomas’s actions more closely, and did the same with the light sides’ behaviors too.

They didn’t really care for what the four did with their host, they were used to working in the dark anyway; but when Deceit noticed that Thomas’s personal well-being and interests were being sacrificed for the sake of something as incredulous as morals, the reptilian facet wasn’t having it.

“Promise you’ll still come back to this part of the wall?”

Janus looked the duke straight in the eye as he changed his appearance into a bespectacled side wearing light blue bearing a cardigan around his shoulders.

“Promise.”

He did try to stop Deceit from appearing another time after that, but even he agreed that sacrificing a callback for a friend’s wedding was the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. So he helped Janus get Logan’s behavior and appearance right to the best that he can, and sent him on his way. 

Apparently, Janus got a lot of Logan wrong. He donned the wrong tie, spoke the wrong words, and acted the wrong way. Look, it wasn’t their fault their wardrobes had changed after not seeing them for a couple of years.

He came back almost an hour later looking as frustrated as ever. They both knew that wouldn’t be the last time the scaled side would need to offer his services.

The next video, Remus got the courage to try and make an appearance. He was tired of the Prince Almighty pretending to be Thomas’s only source of creativity and he wanted to get himself even a tiny place in the spotlight. 

The gloved side supported him on this decision. He didn’t expect the duke to knock out his own sibling as his version of a grand entrance but to be fair, Roman kind of had it coming.

Remus admitted to himself that his first few minutes up there was a ton of fun, even if it meant seeing not just Virgil again, but Roman too. As it progressed though, he took note of Virgil’s stabbing words, as if they had not shared a large majority of Thomas’s life as close acquaintances. So, he pretended that every word out of the emo and the others against him wasn’t a bullet through his chest. Remus reminded himself that they just didn’t understand.

Sure, he felt defeated by the end of the video, but when he heard Roman’s voice again as the fanciful side gained consciousness, Remus couldn’t resist popping up beside him, if only to see him again for a few, painfully reminiscent seconds. Of course, Roman shot him down just as quickly as he rose up.

He knew he wouldn’t be rising up again.

The next time, it was Janus again who popped up. He had just snatched Logan out of the scene with a cane and straight back into the logical side’s part of the wall. Remus grabbed him by the arm before he could make his entrance.

“Jan…”

“It’ll be fine, Remus. Thomas needs this.”

In Janus’s absence, the duke waited patiently and nervously, bobbing his feet up and down as he listened to the chaos occurring outside. He took a few deep breaths, thinking to himself that this would be the last one, then everything would return to its original state, with him and Janus against the world they knew. He grew more frantic every passing second, pacing back and forth through the entire mindscape, until a single sentence made him stop in his tracks.

_“My name…is **Janus.** ”_

A cold shiver passed through him when he heard those exact words come out of the reptilian side’s mouth.

The common area flashed with thunder and lightning, and rain poured strong from above as his only friend left laughed and joked with their host. Deceit returned to a flooded scape and an obviously pained duke standing under a howling storm.

“Remus?”

“Looks like the _evil_ \- oh sorry, I meant _snake boy_ , had fun up there.”

The flood was suddenly knee-deep now, and a lightning strike just barely missed Janus’s side.

“Please Remus, that was nothing-”

“Revealing your name was _nothing_?” 

Remus stood unnervingly still as a strong gust of wind flew Janus’s hat off of his head, but he manages to catch it before it landed in the now hip-level waters.

“At least I didn’t give mine within the first half of my very first appearance!”

“This is different, Dee. You revealed your name in exchange for their _trust._ ”

“Remus, this is for our _host_ , you can’t possibly-”

“ _ **No**_.” The duke’s eyes glowed green for a split second, and a loud roar of thunder attacked Janus’s ears whilst another flash of lightning appeared before him, temporarily blurring his vision.

“Don’t bash your head in on your trip to the greener side, _Deceit._ And take your damned door on the way out.”

“Re-”

With the snap of Creativity’s fingers, a sopping wet, scaled aspect was dropped onto the other end of the wall with a loud thud, followed by a yellow door glowing brightly beside Virgil’s in the brightly lit hallway.

Remus remained there, standing alone in a raging hurricane and a sea of loud, maddening, demented thoughts, staring at a blank wall with his back turned on a single, green door amidst a dark, crumbling mindscape.

_Alone._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inform me if there are any left out tags or warnings! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Disturbing imagery, disgusting imagery, blood, gore, wounds, mature language, mention of death, monsters, corpses, carcasses, spiders, mention of maggots, panic attacks (there’s a lot going on here, sorry)

The second Janus and his door was gone from the mindscape, the first thing Remus did was focus his abilities on blocking any possible entrance to his part of the mindscape; specifically, the wall. It took a lot out of him, and honestly took advantage of a large percentage of his energy, but he was determined to keep it that way for as long as he could. No way out, no way in. 

He thought being alone would entail being alone in every sense of the word. For most people, it would; but then again, Remus wasn’t most people, was he? For the duke, “alone” meant being left in a lonely room in the company of himself, his mind, and his abilities. 

It started in his room with simple things; flickering lights, a pile of trash, the smell of sewage, a severed finger, and a lot more projections that he had become used to by now. Some he even deemed _unexciting._

Eventually they progressed; leaving Remus without even a bed to rest on and instead with a collection of graves of Thomas’s deceased pets. Not an inch of his ceiling was left unoccupied by giant moths that bothered him relentlessly with their incessant flapping and shining eyes amidst the dark. A tornado of toenail clippings, nose hairs, sweat, and just about every waste byproduct of the human body had taken residence in his quarters as well.

These images changed every day, and Remus quite honestly didn’t mind at all as it offered a distraction from the very obvious absence of particular individuals; but even the king of all things disturbing had a limit of how much of his own projections he could take. That’s what the rest of his empty mindscape was there for.

Unfortunately, his creatures had no intentions of being confined within such a small a space as his room.

Soon, the entire mindscape became a blank canvas for his “creations” to decorate. Black goo flooded the floor. A variety of weapons, body parts, and all-too familiar faces were mounted on the walls and ceiling. A slew of deformed, distorted creatures followed the troubled creative aspect throughout his own manic battlefield. 

Every day brought forth a different imagery, and soon it took less than a few hours before a new projection could take refuge in his abandoned scape. There was not a single moment of silence, a second of peace, an empty space, an opportunity at normalcy.

He knew their host was probably having one hell of a time with him in this state, but even the very embodiment of intrusive thoughts had his fair share of it, and it was all beyond his control now.

Eventually, Remus accepted that for someone like him, being alone will never mean being _alone._ Before long, Creativity had learned to ignore the residents of his wasteland; and in time, he learned to accept them, to _like_ them. They were the only family he had left.

He barely noticed when he lost his hold on the cracked and crumbling wall.

~~~

The whole mindscape had certainly gotten in a stir since the moment Janus was dropped wittingly, loud and hard onto the light sides’ common area floor. His immediate reaction after that very moment was to of course try and get back through the wall; but he found that no matter how many times he smushed himself against the cold concrete and pounded his fists on the pristine, white structure, it just wouldn’t budge. 

He figured it would give way eventually; and so pushing on that wall at least once every day became part of Janus’s routine.

He originally had no plans to converse or even face Virgil while in there (’cause he’d just rather get back to Remus and see how he’s doing _please_ ), but the sight of each other acted like a toggle switch on both of them; igniting a fire that had long since contained heat but never had the right fuel to burn.

“Weren’t you the one who just _left_?!” “Watch it Jan. You know damn well that I tried to ta-” “We felt _betrayed_ , Virgil! -” “-not my fault neither of you wanted to _listen-_ ” “ - what, you suddenly decided we weren’t _good enough_ for you?”

Their conversation was hard to decipher (not that they were listening or anything) but they were sure they heard some “sorry’s” after a few minutes and they were pretty certain that there were an interesting number of “fuck you’s” and other _colorful_ language thrown around. Eventually those two would run out of breath and words to say, then stand in silence as they realized that they had already extinguished the fire that was once growling inside them.

They shared an uncomfortable hug after, but hey, it was a start. The deceitful aspect hadn’t even really thought of having a proper redeeming moment with Patton either, but the moral aspect surprised him by being the first one to approach him. It took a while but eventually, they became okay; not great, but okay.

Janus thought he’d try to get through to Roman as well after he sorted things out with Virgil, but the fanciful side’s unreadable glare and _very_ cold shoulder told Janus all that he needed to know.

Recalling that this was the same guy that disowned his only brother years ago and made fun of his name days ago, Janus thought maybe reconciling with Roman wasn’t worth it at all.

After about 2 weeks of aimlessly forcing his hand on the unsettling neatness of their wall, Janus’s hand finally went through.

In shock, he pulled it back out almost immediately after the wall had welcomed it. He gazed at his glove and saw about 2 or 3 different kinds of bodily fluids dripping from it; and it had only been in the space for a _second._ Five minutes later and everyone in the mindscape had gathered in the commons for the sole purpose of getting through that wall, whatever is in it, and ultimately, through to Remus.

And yes, even Roman had no choice but to be there as well.

“Why do we need to do this again?” Asked Roman as he leaned against the back of the sofa. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Thomas has been getting less and less sleep each night. The poor guy’s in shambles. His eye bags could almost beat mine, and I use _eye shadow_ to get it this way.” Virgil reflexively dabbed at the black makeup under his eyes.

Logan spoke up, pointing to Virgil and Janus respectively. “Wouldn’t it be best then if the two of you approached him? After all, you’ve spent the longest time with him and are probably accustomed to Remus the most.”

“Sadly, specs, he hates our guts right now.”

“Yeah, if it wasn’t obvious yet with how _gingerly_ he dropped me off here two weeks ago.”

Roman stood up straight once again. “Well, I’m not going in there. I think I’ve made that pretty clear.” Janus responded with crossed arms and an eye roll. “Yeah, you’ve made that _really_ clear. _Crystal_.”

Patton, who had unconsciously began biting his fingernails, got a word in too. “So, who _is_ gonna go in?”

The group exchanged looks, but Roman refused to meet anyone’s gaze.

Logan stood up. “Remus has nothing against me, so I think I will try and converse with him.”

“He pulled out your teeth and shoved them up your nose, Lo. Then threw a _shuriken_ at you.” Virgil was staring at him quite unbelievably.

“Allow me to correct myself. _I_ have nothing against _him._ ” 

They shared a few more glances, pointing out that he did _actually_ have a point. Without waiting for their reply, the logical facet approached the wall as calm and collected as a man on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He looked back at them once, heeds Patton’s advice to stay safe, and pushed through.

The sight was certainly… odd. It was dark, humid, with unknown substances dripping from the ceiling and a cacophony of noises echoing through the hall. Logan shaked off the feeling of discomfort, eyeing the green door ahead, and took a step. Suddenly, the path before him is blocked by a horde of floating pens, scissors, rulers, and other stationery; all pointed directly at him. 

He instinctively closed his eyes as the supplies are flung at him at high speed in a heartbeat. A couple snagged his clothes and pinned him back against the wall; a few pens, a cutter, and a pair of scissors keeping him in place by his shirt. A T-square lands terrifyingly close to his neck, and a letter opener manages to graze his forehead, leaving a nasty gash that had just begun to bleed. 

A roll of duct tape is thrown at him too, and in an instant his mouth is taped shut with the silver-ish patch. A loud, high-frequency scream reverberates through the mindscape, back-upped by a chorus of voices yelling _“ **SHUT UP** ” _louder and louder until Logan’s ears feel like they could break.

He was aware that they have no such capability of dying, but it didn’t mean everything wasn’t hurting nonetheless. As another flying wave of _sharp_ kitchen utensils appeared once again in front of him, trembling and threatening to shoot at him once more, he let his impulse take over and quickly expended energy to fall back against the wall he was stuck in.

He stumbled back into the bright mindscape and half into Roman’s already waiting arms. Logan felt Roman ripping the tape off, but didn’t hear it. He knew they were talking to him, but the ringing in his ears made all their voices sound muffled, as if he was deep underwater. Patton and Virgil rushed to his side carrying bandages, cloths, and antiseptics. His wound was already fully gauzed by the time his hearing normalized again.

“So I take it, it didn’t go well?” Roman asked as he helped Logan while noticing all the holes in his shirt and pants.

“It is my displeasure to report that I could not make it even two steps in there, as an army of stationery and kitchen utensils were threatening to supply me with a multitude of injuries and an indistinguishable amount of voices were trying to turn me into an individual with a hearing defect.”

It was though a cold breeze passed through the group all at once when they heard his description, keeping them all locked firmly in their respective places; but nonetheless, they were still determined to get past Remus’s imaginative defenses.

“I’ll go.”

They all turned their heads to look at Morality; standing as straight as he could muster with a glazed look in his eye.

Roman clutched Patton by the arm and shook him. “Padre, are you _mad_? You don’t know what could be waiting for you in there!” Patton took a few deep breaths as he readied himself in front of the wall. 

“This is partly my fault, Roman. None of this would be happening if I hadn’t gone too hard on you years ago. I need to do this.” Roman stared at the moral facet with worry in his eyes and a pounding in his chest that likened Patton’s. He eventually, albeit reluctantly, let go.

Patton held his breath as he put out a hand in front of him and entered the other side. 

A gasp escaped his lips and a shudder rang deep through his body as he took in the sight before him. It was as though he had taken each and every one of Thomas’s nightmares and stitched them into one horrific masterpiece. Patton’s hand shot up to shield his sinuses from the stench that attempted to assault his nostrils.

He looked around the terrifying scape but saw no sign of Remus. He did, however, see a stark green door just up ahead. He trained his eyes on the door and nothing else, hoping it might blind him from the pile of roughly skinned, wounded, and butchered animal carcasses in his peripheral vision. 

At his second, honestly small, step, he stopped dead in his tracks as he feels a crawling sensation creeping up his leg, then another, then some, then _more._ Morality’s lip quivered as he glanced down; greeted with the sight of a thousand- no… a _million_ spiders flooding the floor and surrounding him, with already a couple dozen making their way up his legs. 

Patton managed to stop the shriek that tried to claw its way out of his throat while trying his best to kick away as many of the tiny arachnids away; but when the tide of eight-legged monstrosities manage to beach a rotting body of a headless dachshund right at his feet, Patton couldn’t stop the darkness taking over him as his body fell straight to the ground; upper half landing in the safety of the “light” mindscape, but the lower still submerged in the sea of spiders on the other side.

“ _Fuck,_ somebody help me pull him in!”

Virgil had already grabbed one of their pale, unconscious friend’s arms when Logan rushed to pull at the other until Patton’s full form was completely nabbed back through the wall. Roman took the privilege of conjuring the spiders still clinging onto his legs out of existence with a wave of his hand.

Janus stood close, eyeing the shock-stricken facet on the ground.

“He’s still alive, right?”

“As I have said, we cannot die, and I believe the worst injury Patton has sustained is a very mild concussion. He will most likely be fine in a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll take him to the couch.” Roman said, simultaneously hauling Patton up bridal style and gently setting him down on the sofa. Virgil began pacing the area in agitation. While everyone was busy gushing over the fallen side, Anxiety drummed his fingers against the wall, scratched his nails lightly against it, leaned his head and pushed on it.

He took another look at Logan’s stained bandage and Patton’s feeble form, then made up his mind.

“Damn it, I’m going in!” 

Janus snapped his head towards Virgil whose foot was already through the wall. 

“Virgil, are you sure?” The anxious side hovered unsure by the wall, however, he still dared to don a brave face and reply to Janus.

“If his creatures don’t want the good guys, then they might want the bad guys. See ya, Jan.” And with a little peace sign and a tiny but nervous smirk, Virgil passed through.

Janus eyed Roman from where he stood, expecting him to be giving his full attention to Patton, but the prince had his eyes fixated on the empty wall. It was the first time Deceit witnessed his expression morphing into that of concern for the first time in ages.

In the other half, the anxious facet recited a little mantra to himself as he scanned the contents of the area.

_It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. **None** **of this is** **real.**_

He had already taken 5 steps. Shaky ones, but hey, progress was progress.

He only closed his eyes to let himself breath for a _second,_ yet when he opened them, he was instantly surrounded by a mob of people. Some were missing their eyes, some had mouths filled with just fangs, others had blood gushing out through every hole, a lot were covered in sores oozing with pus, and were those… _maggots_ coming out of them?

They were so close that he could feel their breaths on his face and their drool on his jacket. One or two of them reached out their arms to touch him; the action enough to send Virgil a step back with a gasp. He felt his pulse quickening, eyes darting back and forth, breath and hands shaking, and sweat beginning to bead at his forehead. 

The bodies took a step closer, he took one back. They grabbed at Virgil with bony hands and discolored nails, driving him further and further back toward the wall. They gurgled, screeched, smiled, chuckled, and lunged at him. Virgil gasped for breath as they crowded him, leaving him with no space for air. He extended his arms behind him, shakily feeling around for the familiar cold of the wall, desperate to escape the suffocating feeling of their cold bodies on him.

He took a few steps more until his back finally hit hard against the uneven concrete. Virgil closed his eyes shut; fighting hard through his panic to focus on passing through the wall. By the time he opened his eyes, he’s sitting on the floor, Janus and a now very much awake Patton by his side, steadily counting to 4, then again to 7, then to 8. Before he knew it, he was being led to move to the couch.

Janus didn’t even say anything when he slipped through the wall; only looked at Roman who, for the first time that night, met his gaze. The reptilian side interpreted a lot out of that look; guilt, concern, fear, and maybe even a request. The royal gave Deceit a small nod, and Janus quietly phased through as his single response.

Honestly, the _dramatic_ decor wasn’t even a surprise. In contrast to the others, Janus was used to Remus’s projections, but even he had to admit that this was indeed a bit much than usual. He walked casually through the mindscape; expertly avoiding the puddle of acid that pooled in front of him, filtering the moans echoing through the halls, and even braved going past the image of Virgil’s lifeless body hanging from the ceiling. Logan reminded him one too many times that day of their incapability of death, thank you very much.

He was a few steps away from the green door when a figure suddenly jumped in front of him. He knew who he was right away. Before him was… their host; neck bleeding from being slashed long and deep, head lolling loosely to the side, shirt splattered with blood and filth, eyes wide and blood-shot, and mouth curled into a wide, inhuman grin. Janus stilled as this faux Thomas dragged his bloody hand across his scaled face, eyes locked firmly on his, breaths loud and ragged.

Janus tried to get past, but Thomas suddenly gripped his arms _tight_ and smiled impossibly wider. Deceit thrashed against him, determined to get to his friend, but a single light push from their host sent him flying back until he hit the wall with a loud **_bang._** Fake Thomas was in front of him again in an instant, hands pushing on his chest almost hard enough to crush his ribs. His mouth opened, showing off his crooked and jagged teeth as he spoke the very words that Janus always feared..

“ _You will **never** be a part of me_.”

Thomas laughed; the same kind of laugh Janus has heard from Remus dozens of times, but deeper, more manic, more crazed. The hands pushed even harder against him and he’s forced through the wall again in a split second, landing a good few feet away from the bright mindscape’s wall, almost adjacent to where the couch stood.

“Well, that was the last of us.” Deceit says as tried his best to shake the image of a demented Thomas out of his head whilst sighing in defeat, still seated on the floor.

Everyone bowed their heads or looked up in retreat; almost fully accepting that there was no way they’d ever reach Remus like this. This would be another sleepless night for their host, they thought. Roman, however, only stared straight ahead. 

He looked over at Logan whose clothes were punctured and inked, head all gauzed up. He glanced at Patton who sat meekly and pale beside a still trembling Virgil whose breaths had finally evened out. Then his eyes met Janus’s, whose own irises held such a deep amount of fear and worry.

Roman looked back on all those years of silence, all those years of avoiding even being even in near proximity with that wall, all those years of not talking or seeing Remus, their short but heavy conversation just weeks ago for Thomas’s video; and for once, he let himself remember the look in Remus’s face when he lashed out at him years ago. 

So he stood up, garnering the attention of the others, and walked until he was face to face with that dreaded wall.

“Finally time to swallow your pride, huh?” Virgil asked from where he was seated on the couch, a warm blanket still draped over him.

Roman took a deep breath. “It’s… it’s about time.”

Janus stood up and met Roman by the wall, leaning weakly against it.

“You think he and his minions would be happy to see you there? After all this time?”

“I know they won’t,” Roman drew his sword. “and I’m counting on it. Thomas needs this. Remus needs this…” Janus raises an eyebrow. “And… **_I_** need this. We all do.”

Deceit stopped leaning and did a sort of curtsy; tipping his hat in a mocking fashion while gesturing to the plain white wall in front of them.

“Then by all means, Your Highness, he’s all yours. Try to get out in one piece, hmm?”

Roman let out a breathy chuckle and glanced back at the others who have been staring at them as well. “We’ll see.”

He shut his eyes and entered sword first.

The first thing he felt was someone or something breathing hot against his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit ya girl up if I missed any tags or warnings! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/s: Disturbing imagery, disgusting imagery, blood, gore, mature language, fighting, injuries, mentions of shark, corpses, graphic descriptions

Roman felt a long puff of hot breath hitting his face as he clutched his sword tight in front of him. Slowly and ever so surely, he opened one eye, then the other; fear slowly consuming his pupils as he saw more and more. His breath hitched at the sight in front of him.

Two gigantic, thin, green slits for irises stared back at the prince. A long, scaly snout extended below it, emitting breath that came out as scalding smoke, covering the royal’s face in a sheen of sweat despite being in the area for no more than a minute. It opened its mouth for a short second, allowing Roman a glimpse of its razor-sharp teeth and a wet, forked tongue that resembled that of a reptile’s. Instinctively, he swung his sword towards the creature; which swiftly leaned back and dodged Roman’s attack.

With the creature now standing fully upright and at a proper distance from the prince, he finally registered what exactly his current foe was – a dragon.

“Leave it to Remus to be this dramatic.” Roman muttered under his breath as he ducked to avoid a stream of fire that had just been released from the dragon’s mouth. He crouched under the fiery column and the dragon’s long neck and took the opportunity to run closer to its abdomen. He lifted his sword and went for the attack, eyeing the soft, unprotected spot by its lower torso; but missed due to a massive tail hitting him on his side, dragging the winded prince towards the wall and pinning him to it.

Roman struggled against the force of the dragon’s heavy tail until he managed to pull out his sword-bearing arm and slice through the large tail in a single swoop; earning a loud, pain-riddled roar from the creature as its form spasmed and disintegrated. Its claws almost snagged the prince again as it fell in anguish, but Roman was quick enough to get out of the way and take another stab at its now exposed back. The dragon howled once more as the projection sputtered and shrank.

Its dying form glowed bright green, rendering the prince’s vision temporarily compromised; and when he regained his vision, his sword was no longer embedded in the scaly armor of a fire-breathing dragon, but in the back of a green-tinged witch dressed completely in black.

 _A dragon-witch, then;_ Roman thought.

As the prince tried to catch his breath, sword still deep through her body, her head snapped back at the royal, looking him straight in the eye. She stepped forward, releasing the sword from where it staked through her torso, the gaping wound closing in a matter of seconds. Strong winds filled the mindscape as she took off of the ground; long, pitch black hair flowing in every direction, arms spread out eagle-like and hands positioned as if it were ready to claw at someone’s heart. Her arms slowly moved towards Roman’s direction, a menacing smile forming on her face, lips slowly parting to release a high-pitched cackle.

Suddenly, a horde of blood-sucking bats flew at him; disorienting him and throwing him off balance. He screamed as some of the critters latched onto his arms, neck, and legs, tiny teeth digging into his flesh. His sword was rendered useless now, but the fanciful side had yet to remember that Remus wasn’t the only aspect of creativity in this field. He fought through the pain of this terrifying bat army and managed to snap his fingers; effectively turning every single animal into a less-threatening plush version of them. With another wave of Creativity’s hand, the flood of plush, stuffed bats was gone from the floor.

He eyed the floating witch, fearlessly meeting her evil smirk. Her hands shot straight up into the air, gathering bright streaks of lightning from the sky and onto her fingers, and in a single movement the flashing bolts were struck directly at the waiting Prince. Roman fell to the ground as he dodged one strike, then rolled over to the right as he dodged yet another. By the time the third strike came around, Roman was ready. He flung his hands at the direction of the last lightning bolt and before it could even touch the very ends of his fingertips, the bright streak had turned into a twisting vine.

The vine travelled up, tracing the route of the once lightning strike back towards the witch; where it wrapped itself around her entire body. It squeezed tighter, and tighter, resembling a boa constrictor strangling its prey. Roman kept his hands where they were, concentrating just enough to keep the vine winding tighter, until the witch’s form dissipated into thin air with a final screech.

Roman slumped his arms back down almost in sync with the vines hitting the ground with a soft thud. He reached for his waist, checking to make sure the sword was still there; unminding of the few wounds etched into his limbs by the flying mammals from before. The royal took a breath and looked ahead to the door in front of him and sprinted towards it.

The seemingly sentient space had no plans of making it easy for Roman.

Roman ran, and ran, and ran, ‘till his legs ached, yet the door remained there, at the same proximity it was before he chose to run. Just 30 seconds into his solo race, and the royal felt cold hands grabbing at his feet, halting his journey. He quickly and unthinkingly ran his sword at the undead arms below him, shaking off the fingers gripping his ankles in order to continue his run. Above him, he noticed a patch of the ceiling turn to liquid, dripping salty water onto Roman’s hair, clothes, and face. The prince kept running, aware of the growing wet patch above his head practically pouring sea water on him rather than just dropping it at him.

Without any warning, a Great White shark dropped from the levitating aqua portal; massive jaws wide open and ready to take the exhausted royal in. But years of battle practice, mock duels, and ability-honing taught Roman the art of speed and reflex; proving itself useful as he transformed the humongous beast into a harmless little clownfish curiously similar to a certain Pixar character with a single flick of his wrist. The teeth of the shark had just barely skimmed his hair when he had executed the transformation, and with the friendly fish hovering awkwardly in mid-air, Roman sent it back through the wet ceiling and dried the structure off while he proceeded with his quest.

He kept running even as he changed a rain of missiles into flowers, calmed a raging sand storm, sliced through a mile-high wall of thorny bushes, deflected a paring knife swiftly launched at him, and regretfully beheaded the Walking Dead-esque projection of Joan that threw it in the first place (Roman still said sorry). He was ready to do anything just to get to Remus.

He stopped in his place for a second, panting and feeling defeated as he eyed the still distant door. The room seemed to join him in his break; but Roman chose to use this few seconds of leeway to garner as much energy as he could to, no longer bring himself closer to the door, but to pull it closer to _him._

Before any of Remus’s little “pets” could even do anything about him finally gaining contact with the wooden door, the fanciful side had already kicked down the structure with a loud **_“REMUS!”_** escaping his throat.

The room had turned into somewhat of a love child of World War II and the tornado that brought Dorothy into Oz. Not a centimeter of space was untouched by the growing whirlwind of sand, gravel, lava, viscera, and a bunch of other unidentified substances circling the room; effectively hiding their creator, wherever he was. Roman could see everything _but_ who he was looking for.

He charged, unfazed, swinging his arms up to shield his face from the strong wind that crashed into him and the gunk that rode the swirls of air.

“Remus?! Show yourself! _Remus, **please!**_ ”

After seconds (or had it been minutes? Time was seemingly non-existent in this realm) of walking aimlessly and being slapped in the face by unrecognizable squelching objects, Roman stopped. He struggled through the howling shitstorm just to lift one arm up. Such a simple, easy move made difficult by the wind knocking its own kind out of the prince. With his right arm over his face, eyes shut tight, and the other arm finally stretched out above his head, he uneasily but swiftly closed his elevated palm into a fist; killing the storm in an instant.

Everything dropped. He lifted up his eyelids, aware of the filth covering him from head to toe, the guts and miscellaneous mysterious objects coating the ground, and the slightly lighter particulates still dropping from the air. With a small wave of his hand the surroundings were cleared, and his suit, hair, and face were back to its pristine state; save for his initial injuries of course.

Roman’s eyes scanned the worn-down room as he caught his breath, gaze eventually fixing on one of the corners where a ball of shadow-like projections were circling some sort of… figure crouched down on the floor; knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his knees, and head buried in the little “nest” the figure’s limbs had formed.

_Remus._

Roman wasted no time in approaching the side in a few long strides. Driven by nervous anticipation, the fanciful side pushed his hand against Remus’s “force-field” built of brooding shadows. He instantly pulled his hand back at the slightest bit of contact; a flash of electric-like pain travelling through his fingers and arms with a single touch.

“Can you hear me, Remus?!” Roman shouted while clutching his pained hand to his chest. Creativity’s darker half remained unmoving. He ought to try and pierce through the dark shield with his sword, but it merely bounced off with a loud _clang._ Roman continued to stare in frustration at the duke’s sorry state. He knew what he was about to do would hurt but… did he really have any choice?

_Well, here goes nothing._

With a deep breath and fearfully squinted eyes, his hands plunged into the ball of shadows covering Remus. The royal _screamed._ Immense pain surged through his arm and vocal cords as he cried out. No physical changes or any indications of a painful experience appeared on his searing skin, but the agonizing sensation was still definitely there. He sank in deeper until he was almost shoulder deep through the shadowy thickness; throat growing hoarse from the amount of screaming that came from the prince.

The tips of his fingers finally recognize the familiar yet unwelcoming material of Remus’s clothes. In one swift motion that was meant to be comforting and coercing but came out as sudden and invasive due to the teeth-grinding pain, Roman lay his hand on the duke’s trembling shoulder.

Everything stopped.

The pain halted, the shadows dissipated, the room fell silent, and Remus’s shaking even ceased.

“Remus?” Roman half whispered to the still form beneath him as he knelt to meet his level, hand still remaining on the shoulder. Suddenly, Remus’s head snapped up, revealing two blazing green eyes that sent the ~~frightened~~ prince stumbling over his own bent knees, arms moving behind him to anchor himself up from where he was half laying and half seated on the floor.

Remus stood up, never removing glowing his gaze from Roman. Roman slowly mirrored his movement, carefully standing up, hands in mid-air as both a gesture of defense and a sign that he was there with no intention of harm.

“You shouldn’t be here, Ro-ro…” Remus snarled, the green never leaving his eyes as he took a few steps closer.

Roman took a step back, hand unconsciously flying towards his sword; gripping its hilt but never drawing it.

“Everyone else tried, Remus. Logan’s wounded, Patton fainted, Virgil suffered through an attack, and Janus got hurt –“

“I said _get out, Roman._ ” Remus waved his arm and in the blink of an eye his morning star was being held tight in his right hand; the spikes resting on his left hand heavy enough to pierce through his skin, but it seemed that the duke couldn’t feel anything.

Roman’s grip coiled tighter around the sword.

“T-this has to stop. Thomas is sufferi-“

“I said **_GET OUT!_** ”

The deep, echoing, layered voice was barely recognizable as Remus swung his weapon at Roman at full force. Roman’s sword was ready in an instant; held horizontally above his head to shield himself from the incoming attack.

Remus was fast and relentless, going for a different, exposed section of Roman’s body with every blocked attack. Roman was just as agile; sword meeting morning star, metal meeting metal every time with a loud _clang._

“Do you have any… idea… what all of this… is doing to our host?!” Roman uttered between pants as he dodged and countered Remus’s every move.

“Aww. It’s adorable how strongly you care for Thomas. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were _fucking_ him _._ ” Remus grinned as he aimed at Roman’s head once more; only for his opponent to swiftly slip down, causing his own weapon to crash through the wall instead of a skull.

With one strong pull, he dislodged the morning star from the thinning walls of his room. He turned around and quickly spotted the prince. He swung again with no time to lose.

“Stop this nonsense at _once_ Remus!”

“Oh, well, if I’m so bad for Tommy, why don’t you just _get rid of me,_ Ro-ro?” The duke stopped in front of Roman, arms outstretched limp as he stared down the prince with a mad glint in his green eyes; his unprotected form a tempting invitation for Roman’s blade.

Roman’s hold wavered although his sword remained high.

“Well? I’m all yours to slice and stab for an infinite number of times, Roman. Haven’t you always dreamed of this?” Remus’s head tilted to the side; the menacing smirk still plastered on his face.

Roman weakened, the arms bearing a sword dropped, and a pair of eyes looked down.

“I… I ca- I can’t…”

Remus laughed. It was a low, reverberating chuckle but it progressed into a soul-piercing maniacal laugh that brought back the fear in Roman’s eyes and brought his sword back up high.

“ ** _Weak._** ”

In a split second, Remus’s morning star was back on Roman with the prince just barely being able to avoid it. He almost didn’t even notice how one of the spikes managed to rip through his sleeve.

“I thought you _cared_ for your host?” _Clang._

“I- I do!” _Dodge._

”So why can’t you do it, huh Roman?” _Thud._

“Because I-“

“ _Vanquish me, Your Highness!”_

“I can’t-“

“ ** _Why?!_** ”

“Because _we need you_!”

Roman didn’t think the fiery green ablaze in Remus’s eyes could possibly burn even brighter. One look into the duke’s eyes proved him wrong.

“Need me? _Need me?_ What do you need me for?” Remus’s attacks grew stronger as he regained a terrifying new energy in him; going at Roman swing after swing.

“You _light sides_ have your work all figured out for you, don’t ya? The brain, the heart, his passion…”

Roman dodged one hit a little too slow, earning him a deep gash on his arm and a small cry of pain.

“Hell, even the two little traitors have their very own adorable little labels, don’t they?” Another near successful hit.

“Virgil, the _Great Defender of Safety_ and Janus, the _Lord of Self-preservation_!” A particularly strong swing knocked the sword out of Roman’s hand. Before he had time to grab it, Remus aimed at him once more. Roman caught the morning star’s body with his bare hands just before it encountered his face.

“And me? Why, I’m just the evil duke who keeps Thomas up at night and scares the living shit out of the host’s pants. Aren’t I?!” Remus pushed harder, and Roman gave up all his strength just to keep the weapon far from his skin.

“So quiet, Roman… Tell me… what am I here for except to torment poor little Tommy?”

Roman’s arms trembled as he grunted at the weight and sweat trickled down his face.

“I mean, no one wanted me to be born. Fuck, even _I_ didn’t ask to be born out of your very own flesh and blood! So… what is my _purpose_?!”

The spikes were centimeters away from the bridge of his nose and he could see every little detail of Remus’s craze-filled, rage-stricken face.

“Tell me, Ro-ro, **_what am I?!_** ”

Remus pushed further down, and Roman’s arms almost buckled under the strain, one spoke roughly touching the royal’s nose. He ignored the burning of his biceps and forced out two simple words through tightly gritted teeth.

“ _You’re **Creativity!**_ ”

The grin on the duke’s face died down and his brows rose up. The tremendous physical pressure that had been torturing Roman finally lifted; allowing the sweat-soaked prince to finally take in a huge gulp of air as Remus leaned back from where he once towered over the royal in white.

The prince sat up, not quite having the strength to get up on his feet but just enough to stretch out his arms and repossess the sword that had landed a few feet from him. Remus remained kneeling on the ground, weapon held loose in his hand, the green in his eyes still ablaze. They knelt in absolute silence until Remus’s forehead creased again and the spite in his gaze returned.

“You never thought that. Since day one you made it clear that _you_ were Creativity, not me. For you, I was just everything you hated, everything you despised, everything wrong, everything ugly… everything you _weren’t._ ”

Roman noticed how Remus gripped the body of his weapon so tight that his knuckles jutted out sharp and white. Remus’s statement pulled at something in Roman’s chest, giving off a strong and noticeable twinge.

“Then… I was wrong.” Roman said as he put the sword back in its place. Remus only looked on, expectant yet doubtful about the next words that will come out of his companion’s mouth.

“I know that’s how I made you feel for all these years, but truth is, you’re so much _more_ than that Remus.”

“Then why push me away?”

“I… I guess I was… afraid.” The duke raised an eyebrow, waiting for the prince to carry on.

“For all my life I’ve been told that the thoughts and ideas you whispered in my head years ago were… wrong, immoral, bad. And I… always believed them. Good and bad isn’t exactly my department, you know?” A light chuckle accidentally escaped Roman’s lips. None of them took notice.

“When I thought about you doing the same to Thomas I just… I didn’t know what to do, Remus. Everything about you was so… different, _new._ It was uncharted territory when we’ve been living in constancy for _so long._ My instinct was always to protect Thomas, but I was stupid a-and scared and didn’t know any better, so I ended up trying to protect him from-“

“From… me.”

“I shouldn’t have done that though.I’ll have you know, I’ve seen the little sprinklings of “Remus” you put into his vids. Don’t think I didn’t notice the occasional cussing, the naked Aunt Patty, the slightly sexual jokes, the slightly crazed ideas, the snake devouring its own tail to satiate its hunger, all the butt vines, even Patton’s ‘ass-et’ joke. I know those were all you.” As a first, Remus avoided Roman’s gaze; green eyes darting to the floor like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“And it took me a while, _years_ even, to come to terms with this but… _thank you._ ”

The duke’s eyes snapped back. “What the fu-“

“I know, I know,” Roman said as he put his arms in the air in exclamation. “I made it pretty clear before, and… maybe even recently, that I despised you, but despite keeping myself in denial for so long, there was this one thing I just couldn’t deny forever.” Remus stared in confusion but continued to listen.

“You’re… _important_ to Thomas. He’s just… not complete with just me in the picture. There are always going to be things I won’t ever be able to provide for him that only you can, and things you won’t ever be able to that only I can.”

“What’s your point, Princey?”

The prince stood up.

“My point is that I made a _mistake._ Thomas _needs_ you. Dare I say it, he’s… _dull_ and _restrained_ without you Remus; and honestly, weaving an entertainment career is so much easier with someone like you in the equation. He needs his _full creative spectrum_ and that’s… not me. It isn’t you either.”

Roman nervously extended a wary hand towards the still half kneeling side. He cautiously took it and met Roman at eye level.

“ _We’re_ Creativity, Remus.”

The green in the duke’s eyes stopped burning, and the glowing ceased. His mouth opened and closed as if wanting to say something, but Roman beat him to it just one more time.

“And **_I’m sorry_**.” Whatever Remus wanted to say died on his tongue the second he witnessed a tear escape Roman’s eye. It was like seeing Haley’s comet for the first time.

“You sure you aren’t using your acting skills on me?”

“Remus, I… I had no right to treat you like that. None of us did. And we were absolute _dickheads_ for that, and no don’t tell Patton I said that.” Remus gave the crying persona a small smile and a short, amused huff in reply.

“I… have no excuse for all those years that I abandoned you, but I _swear_ on Thomas’s friends that there wasn’t a single day that I never felt even a smidget of regret for what I did.” Roman’s tears steadily flowed down his cheeks; years’ worth of locked up confusion and regret spilling out in a silent cry.

“You don’t even have to like me, Remus. I know I don’t get to have that liberty. The only thing I want in this world right now… is for you to forgive me.” Remus’s eyes must have landed on every single item and space in that room; all except Roman’s own eyes.

“All this time, I was always ready to forgive you Roman. You didn’t exactly make it easy but… now is as good a time as any, I guess.” His glossy gaze finally met Roman’s tear-stained ones. Before the fanciful side could even open his mouth, Remus spoke again, hand rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Ro-ro, I…I never really got the chance to say this before all this shit happened, but… I’m sorry too.” Roman’s brows shot up.

“What for?”

“I know how much anguish I caused you when I was born. It was my fault you were tormented for _so long,_ my fault that you had to hear all of the demented things that go through my head, my fault that you were in excruciating pain before we, uhm… _split,_ and in even _greater_ pain when I came into being.” The glassy sheen that coated Remus’s eyes broke and flowed as tears, his body trembling as sobs racked his form.

“Even T-Thomas had to see everything that I see, Roman… and he doesn’t _deserve_ that, a-and it’s all my fucking fault-“

Suddenly he was enveloped in warmth, and softness, and… it was the first time he’s been hugged in _years._

“It was never your choice, and it was never your fault. I’m sorry, we should have been there to help you,” Roman said as he let Remus cry into his shoulder, never breaking the tight embrace.

When Remus finally let go to meet Roman’s eyes, still not letting go of each other, the prince finished his sentence.

“And now I _am_ here for you… and I am never abandoning you again. _Promise_.”

Roman pulled the duke into another hug, uncaring for the messy wetness that had begun to pool on his sash and his shoulder.

“This’ll probably stain your sash, you know?” Remus said, face still buried in the crook of Roman’s neck.

“You think I could still bring myself to care?” They both laughed. It was the first time they laughed together ever since that dreadful day. When they pulled away again, they were both a mess of sweat, tears, and maybe even a bit of blood, but for the moment, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Remus?”

“Hmm?” Remus softly replied as he tried to wipe his eyes dry with the frills on his suit.

“Do you think you can still have me as your brother?” Roman asked with a face overflowing with anxiety and deep brown eyes that held millions of words.

Remus stared for a while, eyes large and lips quivering, until it morphed into the genuine smile Roman had never seen on him before.

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

They both did try to prevent any more spillage from their tear ducts, but they guessed years of separation from your only blood relative did things to you. Later on, they silently agreed not to tell anyone of the emotional fest that went on inside the duke’s room.

Eventually, they garnered the strength to walk out of the mindscape together, Roman’s arm slung around Remus’s shoulders as they traversed the short distance between the room and the wall. Only this time, there were no nightmarish creatures to get in their way, or knives threatening to carve out their insides, or evil warlocks that played with their heads.

Only two brothers, their weapons, and a broken bond that had finally begun to mend. They knew it would take some time, but this was as good a start as it could get. Once they were face to face with the wall, they stopped; Remus’s stare lingering on the blank canvas in front of him.

“First time through the wall, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

“They’re all waiting for you, if you’d believe me.”

“Dead or alive?” Roman paled and gaped as the person beside him morphed into an image of an upright, rotting corpse with flies buzzing about his decaying head.

“A-alive… idiot.” In a split second the corpse was back to full health, cheeks once again alive with color, and mustache snug in place above a wide, terribly missed, shit-eating grin.

“Scaredy-cat.” Roman chuckled nervously in response to Remus’s tease.

“Okay, I… deserved that. So, shall we?”

Roman smiled at his brother, Remus took a deep breath, and they phased through the crumbling walls together.

With no one in the dim mindscape, it shook. The ceiling cracked and debris fell, the walls broke apart and fell to the ground, and the floors disintegrated, everything flying and vanishing into thin air.

Inside, the green door glowed bright, _impossibly bright,_ and in a few seconds, it was gone; just like the rest of the empty scape.

In the ~~other~~ _only_ mindscape, six figures shed tears, shared laughs, released frustrations, let go of grudges, forgot regrets, and uttered streams and _streams_ of apologies until there wasn’t anything more left to say.

In the midst of all the commotion, Roman allowed his attention to be diverted towards the hallway now containing six doors – far from the 3 lonely ones that stood there when they were but toddlers. As he stared at the structure that contained a decorative shield emblem standing beside the one hosting a just as elaborate sword design, a single thought grazed the surface of his mind.

Green never looked so welcome, so _perfect_ , next to red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!! Hope you're all doing okay! Every little support and kudos is eternally appreciated. Follow me on Tumblr [@nerdy-emo-royal-dad](https://nerdy-emo-royal-dad.tumblr.com/)!. Stay safe, fams! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please inform me if I missed any tags/warnings! Follow me on Tumblr @nerdy-emo-royal-dad. Stay safe!


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